Crouching Viper, Hidden Dragon
by hambaagu
Summary: Orochimaru— an enigmatic genius, a twisted man, and one of the most powerful criminals ever. Unfortunately, I was neither genius nor criminal, and I sure as hell wasn't a man. OC as fem!dragonsage!Orochimaru.
1. Ryūto

**。。。**

* * *

**1, [Ryūto...kun?]**

* * *

Every year, around 50 children are orphaned in Konohagakure. Roughly five would be eligible for the Shinobi Academy. Of those five, three would survive into their chunīn years, and one would go on to become a prodigy of its generation.

Sarutobi Hiruzen kept these statistics in mind as one orphan after another entered his office, all hoping to be selected for this year's Shinobi draft.

"Next," he called, dismissing the latest candidate. _No, _the young Hokage thought, watching the skinny kid slink away. With a sigh, he picked up a pen and began to prescribe the child's fate.

Quiet footsteps approached his desk. "Sit down, please."

The newcomer obeyed, settling down with a soft plop, wordlessly watching Hiruzen work.

_Inadequate respect for authority, and lack of ambition. Recommended action: deferment from the shinobi program. _Hiruzen finished his previous assessment and looked up- straight into one of the strangest faces he'd ever seen.

Paler than the paperwork on his desk, the boy should've appeared sickly. But his short, messy jet-black hair was sleek, and though his eyes were an unsettling shade of amber, they were bright and focused. Sharp cheekbones and a straight nose accentuated his serpentine aura. A tint of purple lined his slanted eyes, though Hiruzen doubted it was makeup.

For a dizzying second Hiruzen was hit with a strange sense of familiarity, but it faded almost instantaneously, leaving Hiruzen with a fluttery feeling of nostalgia.

"What's your name, son?" Hiruzen asked, taking a deep draw from his pipe.

"It's Ryūto."

"Ryūto?" Hiruzen echoed, combing a hand through his chestnut-colored hair. _Oh._

The child shrugged. "It's girly, but whatever."

"Oh no, not at all. It's just an uncommon name." _Whew_. The young Hokage let out a tobacco-scented breath of relief.He glanced down at the profile on his desk to make sure- Ryūto was male, indeed. "How old are you, Ryūto-kun?"

"Doesn't it say on the paperwork?"

"Sometimes the Orphanage lies so that the kid has a better chance." Hiruzen answered patiently.

Ryūto glanced at the evaluation form on the Hokage's desk. "How old does it say I am?"

"Nine." A far stretch really, considering the child's height.

"Huh. I'm eight." Ryūto said, scratching his head.

"Really?"

The child nodded vigorously.

"You look a bit small to me." Hiruzen teased.

There was a flash of anger in the child's eyes. "With all due respect, Hokage-sama, it's a bit hard to bulk up on rice and pickled vegetables. Kids need protein to grow. _Meat._"

"You're being underfed at the Orphanage?"

"Yeah. That's why a lot of us are-" Ryūto clapped two pale hands over his mouth and glared at the Sandaime Hokage, as if he was at fault for Ryūto's slip of tongue.

Hiruzen blinked, assessing the situation. After a moment of contemplation, he relaxed, reclining on his chair and opening up his posture. Ryūto soon subconsciously followed in suit, mimicking Hiruzen's body language. _Perfect._

"Would you like some tea, Ryūto-kun? We'll be in here for awhile." The young Hokage offered.

"Sure," the boy accepted, though he scanned Hīruzen's face warily. _Calculated mistrust. A good sign. _

Soon, the promised beverage came, along with a plate of steaming pork buns. Ryūto eyed the food hungrily.

"Go ahead," Hīruzen motioned.

"If I eat this," Ryūto picked up a bun, turning it around in his hand. "Do I have to do anything?"

"Well, I'd appreciate it if you tell me about the orphanage's food situation."

Ryūto eyed him, and then the bun. "This is from Kouji-san's stand, right? She makes the best buns around."

"Correct. You recognize the smell?"

"Uh...actually, there was a takeout box on your secretary's desk. It had Kouji-san's emblem on it."

For the first time since Ryūto's arrival, he smiled. Hiruzen returned it with a chuckle, and the boy relented, biting into the bun. "I guess I can't really hide anything from you, Hokage-sama. So..."

* * *

"...I kinda _had_ to tell Hokage-sama about the stealing. Sorry, guys."

Finishing my tale, I scanned my ragtag audience of orphans to gauge their reactions. As their kind-of-sort-of leader in our food heists, I felt obliged to retell my meeting with the Hokage. There were about twenty of us in all, sitting in a giant circle under the shade of the overgrown oak tree in the Orphanage's courtyard.

"Ugh, are you fucking serious, Ryūto?" Of course Warui was the first to react. The barrel-chested brunette was always a feisty one. "You dumb snake!"

"Fat ass," I flipped him off- a universal sign of love and companionship in the Orphanage.

"It's ok, Ryūto-nii. We'll find another way. Did you get drafted, at least?" Momo asked, always the mediator. She was a nice kid, but don't let her missing tooth and strawberry-blond pigtails fool you. You should see her snatching peaches from the fruit vendors- that girl is freaking _fast. _

"Of course." I smiled, allowing myself to bask in near egoistical pride.

"You're going to be a ninja?"

I nodded. Everyone cheered rowdily- being the alpha orphan had its perks.

However, the cheering soon died down. "Wait, what's gonna happen to us?"

"Well, the Hokage's gonna have us eat breakfast and lunch with the Academy kids from now on. For dinner, we still have to deal with Orphanage portions, but-"

"We're gonna eat with the Academy kids? Are you serious?"

"That's like letting us eat with the kings and queens, man!"

"Good job, Ryū!" They all gathered around for playful punches and hugs of congratulations.

Something clenched inside of me. Seeing these kids so excited for mediocre school cafeteria food has reminded me once again that this world was not a forgiving place. As they drifted off to other activities, I was suddenly hit with a pang of nostalgia.

It's been eight years.

Eight years in the wrong body, wrong era, wrong place, wrong _world._ Eight years trying desperately _not_ to fulfill the destiny this body. Six years spent with the wrong parents, two more spent under a guise of masculinity...

"I guess this is the end, eh, Ryūto-nii?" I almost jerked. Momo was still there, watching me with wide hazel-colored eyes. All the others have gone.

"What do you mean, Momo-chan?"

"I mean...we won't see each other anymore." A dejected tone crept into her voice. The ball of pain and guilt and remembrance in my chest tightened. Oh, god. She reminded me of my sister from so long ago, my kind little sister...

"Of course we will," I said, giving her a small smile. "The Hokage's promise, remember? We'll eat breakfast and lunch together everyday, with all the other guys, too."

"That's not what I mean," Momo frowned, wiping a dirty sleeve across her eyes. "I love you, Ryūto-nii. Ever since you came to the Orphanage, you've made everyone nicer. You showed us how to get more food so we won't be so angry and sad all the time, and you're so nice to everyone." Then, she threw her scrawny arms around me in a light hug.

Genuinely touched, I rubbed her back soothingly. "Thanks. I'll miss you, Momo-chan."

Suddenly, the small girl pulled away with a pout on her lips. "That's not what I wanted you to say! You don't understand!" With that, she dashed away, her hiccups turning into full-blown sobs.

I blinked. _Wait, what?_

There was a low whistle in the air. I turned towards the source and saw the current bane of my existence- Akane, a lanky redheaded girl who manipulated, lied, and sweet-talked her way into the Matron's favor.

"Never thought you were the type, Ryūto-_kun_." Akane quipped, swaggering over to me. I regarded her cautiously. Dealing with her was like dealing with a viper- you never know when it will strike. "That poor Momo-chan! You broke her little heart."

For a second I just stared at her. Then, it hit me- all of those earnest looks and smiles and _fuck. _"She _likes _me? Like that?"

"Uh-huh. And you just walked right over her little heart."

I almost snickered, if I weren't for the fact that Akane would use my reaction against me. Oh, if only she and Momo knew...

"Stop looking like that and go apologize."

I frowned. "Don't order me around. Why are you doing this for her, Akane?"

"Because I like her. She's nice to me, unlike you."

I gave her an incredulous look before standing up, patting the dirt off my shorts. "Well, you're not exactly a ray of sunshine yourself."

"Not to a _freak_ like you, Ryūto-_kun__."_ I rolled my eyes and stalked away. Oh, Akane. If only she knew how close to the truth she was...

Sticking close to the Orphanage's high walls, I evaded the children and slipped past the gate, where the Matron and some other staff were lounging about, keeping a close eye on their charges. I would soon be gone from their watchful gazes, moved to an apartment complex that would no doubt be filled with other shinobi.

But before that, there were people I needed to see.

Traveling the streets and alleys of Konoha, I kept to myself, avoiding the rowdy bars, the street entertainers, and the noisy food stalls alike. Three carved faces stared down at me from Konoha's landmark monument, serving as a reminder that in its earlier days, Konoha was a much seedier, messier establish.

As I walked, my mind drifted back to Momo. _She'll get over it eventually. _Childhood crushes were as fleeting as they were silly. After all, I would hesitate to call myself attractive. _She'll forget about me, _I reassured my bruised conscience. Besides, liking her back was impossible, since-

"COME BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE PERVERT!"

My thoughts scattered, I was suddenly aware of sprinting footsteps behind me. I moved to step aside, but it was too late- someone slammed into me from behind, sending us flying face-forward into the ground in some sort of cliché dog pile.

"OW!" The person on top of me bemoaned as our skulls crashed together. From the pitch, I could tell it was a boy, probably no older than me.

"Shouldn't I be the one saying that?" With a push, I heaved off the deadweight. Ignoring the sharp pain on my back and stomach, I whirled around, anger flaring. "Watch where you're going, you-"

I stopped. The little boy sitting in the middle of the street looked oddly familiar, with his fluffy white hair, green-lined robe, and geta sandals. Two red tattoos streaked halfway down his cheek like teardrops, and looped on his left arm was a throng of colorful bras. A green, polka-dotted one slipped from his grasp and fell to the ground.

"Oh," I managed. "Uh-"

"Aw, man!" He screamed, jumping up. "I was doing fine until you-" Cue accusatory finger at me. "Showed up!" The expression on his face changed as he studied my face. "Uh, what's up with your face, man? Are you an albino or something? And why are your eyes yellow?"

I ignored his crass observations. "Me? You were the one who decided to steal _those_." Cue accusatory finger at the underwear.

The boy reddened, as if he hadn't realized what he had been carrying. "It's not what it looks like, man!"

"Oh yeah?" I challenged, bending down to pick up a bra that had fallen off earlier. "What is _this_, then, pervert?" I twirled the garment around my finger for emphasis.

"You don't understand!" His blush deepened. _Oh, this is too funny._ "I had to steal this! It...it was part of Sakumo's challenge, and I can't back down!"

_Sakumo?_ I paused. That_ name sounds familiar... _"Who's that, your rival or something?"

"Yeah, sort of-"

_"_WHERE ARE YOU, YOU WHITE-HAIRED FREAK?"

It was the same shrill female voice again, this time closer. A _lot_ closer. Suddenly there she was, panting, red hair out of place, lipstick smeared, and eyes _murderous. _

_"YOU! WHY ARE YOU HELPING HIM? GET BACK HERE, BOTH OF YOU! THOSE WERE EXPENSIVE!"_

We exchanged a look.

"Let's get out of here!" Before I could react, the boy grabbed my arm and started sprinting down the street. I was about to protest when I realized I was still holding the bra I'd picked up earlier. So I ran.

Now, I was pretty fit from years of outrunning angry shop owners, but this guy was _fast. _We dove in and out of hidden alleys, carefully maneuvered around thick crowds, but it still wasn't enough to lose our pursuer. After several minutes, the lady was still hot on our heels.

My new partner-in-crime noticed this, too. "Yo!" He called, white hair bouncing as he leapt over a cart full of carrots. "It's not working! We gotta go up!" He pointed to the roofs.

I blanched, dodging through a throng of women before answering. "I can't!"

"What? Oh. I thought..." His expression turned troubled. I chanced a glance behind; the crazy lady was closing in, bowling people over.

"Who _is_ she?" I yelled, panting in exertion.

"Never mind that! Hold on, I gotta idea!" In an instant he was by my side, a burst of bright blue dying at the soles of his feet. _Chakra?_ Grabbing my hand, he guided us up a few stacked crates, and _jumped_.

I screamed. According to physics, I should've dropped like a deadweight in that second-long ascent, but somehow, we both landed on top of the two-story hotel. As if nothing had happened, he resumed the breakneck pace. We dashed and jumped across several more roofs before finally dropping in the middle of an empty courtyard.

"You lost, Jiraiya."

Winded, I collapsed on the warm soil, catching my breath. _Wait a second!_ I blinked, processing what I'd just heard. _Jiraiya? It's Jiraiya! No wonder why he looked so familiar!_

"Dammit Sakumo!" Jiraiya tossed the underwear at the smirking boy. With silver hair a few shades darker than Jiraiya's head of snow white crack and steely grey eyes, Sakumo's features were monochrome. His navy shirt, forest green vest, and loose black pants added to his bland appearance.

"I won again." Sakumo announced. "That would make 23 wins for me, and...18 for you." Sakumo caught the bras, tossing them into a sizable pile behind him. "You're usually not this late, though."

"Well, Miko caught me while I was leaving her room, and chased after me. I was doing well until I ran into him," he gestured towards me. "And we ended up running away together. But he couldn't roofhop, it slowed me down. How did _you _get here so fast?"

Sakumo's smirk widened. "I waited until you lured Miko out, of course. Thanks for distracting her for me." I blinked again. Miko...red hair...I got up.

_"Screw you!"_

Sakumo laughed. "No thanks, Jiraiya."

"By Miko...do you mean Uzumaki Miko? Mito's sister?" I stared at the green bra I was still holding. It was...kinda small.

"Who else?" Sakumo grinned. "Do you know another Miko?"

"Good thing her chakra's sealed away right now, or else we would've died." Jiraiya added. "Still. I can't believe we actually beat her."

Guilt suddenly wracked my body, and I tossed the bra into the pile, turning away from the pranksters. "That's...a terrible thing to do to her. She's already suffering so much from her punishment."

"She deserved it." Sakumo hissed, tone dark. "_She w_as the one who killed Shodai-sama."

"Not exactly," I chose my next words carefully. "Shodai-sama never quite recovered after his battle with Madara, and the First Shinobi War was already weakening him even before _it _happened."

"She lead four jinchuuriki into the Shodai's battle against an entire Mist platoon." Sakumo's grey eyes glinted dangerously. "Shodai-sama was seriously wounded trying to fend off hundreds of shinobi and four _monsters _because of her mistake."

"It wasn't _just_ her. She was simply following her troop. The rest of her team were picked off one by one by the jinhuuriki as they ran for cover."

"She should've stopped running away and sacrifice herself to delay them."

I furrowed my brows, exasperated. "Even if it were her fault, does it justify putting her in solitary confinement for _two _years and sealing away her chakra for _three_?"

"_She_ should've died from that battle, not the Shodai!" Sakumo snarled.

At the silver-haired boy's outburst, I was suddenly aware of how politically charged this conversation was becoming. There were eyes and ears everywhere in this world of shinobi...

"Calm down, you two. I don't think we should talk about this here." Jiraiya stepped in. Sakumo scoffed and turned away.

I took a deep breath, suddenly remembering that there was still business to attend to. "Yeah, sorry about that, Sakumo. I have to get going, anyways."

"See you around, uh..." Jiraiya trailed off.

"Ryūto."

* * *

"Hello, kaa-san, tou-san," I greeted, bowing low to the twin gravestones. "It's been awhile."

Crouching, I laid down some flowers on the gently sloped mounds. A gentle breeze blew through the isolated clearing. Their graves were in a secluded area near the Hokage monument, a private spot that had cost me most of my modest inheritance.

"I came to tell you something. I got drafted for the Academy. Tomorrow, I will be moving out of the orphanage." I broke the news. "It'll be the start of a new chapter in my life."

With a sigh, I laid down in the space between the two graves. "I don't know if I'm going in the right direction. Actually, I don't know if Konoha is going in the right direction." I thought of Miko- a perfectly good, if rash, soldier, with her power sealed away. "War's been over for two years. But you should see the people- they're still haunted by it. Sarutobi-san is a powerful man, but he hasn't won the people yet. There are dissidents, unhappy with shinobi rule. If someone units them, there might be a civil war..."

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. "Anyways, enough of that. I'm still Ryūto-kun. Ryūko-chan won't be back until Ryūto-kun learns how to protect himself. Young orphan girls are just too easy to kidnap and traffick. But a young orphan girl with chakra and the right jutsu..."

Of course I've tried to use the single most overpowered and versatile thing in this world. Who wouldn't? But, when I reached for the untapped energy within, I found _nothing. _I've tried every single method I could get my hands on but...nothing.

It was almost like I _didn't _have chakra.

I scoffed at myself. "That's nonsense. _Orochimaru_ definitely did. So do _you_." Yellow eyes flickered open, revealing slightly slitted pupils. "I will have power. I _not_ become him."

* * *

**I see so many opportunities to expand the Narutoverse- especially the hidden dark side/politics in Konoha, Sage mode, and Orochimaru's parents. Seriously. There had to be an explanation for them...like, one of them was a snake or something. Any feedback is welcome! **


	2. Katomaru

。 。 。

* * *

**2, [Katomaru]**

* * *

_There was smoke, fire, a burning ship, and a girl trapped onboard. __In a haze of adrenaline and fear, she shoved past the panicking crowds and __dove overboard, hoping that water would be a more gentle killer. S__he was wrong, oh so wrong. _

_The water was unforgiving, cold._

_Cold enough that her skin felt like dry ice against the crackling heat of her innards, c__old enough that the pressure in her asthma-weakened lungs was_ unbearable_. She fought to hold the exploding feeling in as she was dragged deeper and deeper into the never-ending abyss. __She struggled to escape the greedy water's grasp, but it was futile. As her sanity abandoned her, phantom figures began flickering in and out of her vision, joining her in her descent in the murky waters. _

_I__t was a scripted battle between human and nature, and she was destined to lose. __She knew that her descent didn't last forever, but it felt like eons had passed __before the wavering flames of the fire-ravaged ship finally disappeared, along with the panic and her thundering heartbeat. _

Finally. The end of a pathetic existence.

_But that wasn't the end, far from it. _

* * *

_For months, it was quiet. _

_With her senses muted, her world was reduced to blurs of warm colors and soft sounds. For months, there was only the warmth of another human being- someone with a decisively powerful energy about her. Like a mother. _Her _mother. But she was sure she'd had a mother before, and that this woman was her second one._

_What was she supposed to think about that?_

_The woman- her_ mother-_ spent most of her day __meditating and tending to her garden, smears of greens and reds and oranges to her infantile eyes. At nightfall, the woman would sing her to sleep in a voice so rich and beautiful that she didn't dare move, in fear of disrupting the melody. _

_Those months were serene, almost magical. A mother's love had that kind of effect._

_Then, the smoke. _

_It was back._

_She screamed, cried, and thrashed, but it was no use. Visions of her death came back violently. The quiet retreat- her new home- disappeared. Instead there was the burning ship, the dirty waters of the river, her useless struggle against death..._

* * *

_The mother sighed as the child on her lap began bawling, but she stayed in meditation form. "Quiet, my little dragon*."_

_With a casual flick of three fingers, she sent three tiny shots of water to extinguish the burning incense in the corner of the spacious room._

_"I will cycle more chakra through us, if that is what you want, Ryūko-chan. Our time together will be short," Another sigh. "You will leave for Konohagakure soon, to live with friends of mine. A life here with me would be boring for a such a loud girl."_

* * *

My fitful sleep ended with a start.

"_Shit_," I breathed.

It's been awhile since I dreamed of my death.

And, until now, I've _never_ recalled anything concerning my first year of life here or my biological parents. Both were subjects of uncomfortable glances and awkward silence for my "parents," may they rest in peace.

But now I understood their importance, and their friendship to my _real _mother...

Sometime during the night, I'd rolled off my mattress and ended up face-down on the cold linoleum floor. With a groan, I pushed myself onto all fours. My reflection stared at me from the polished surface below. The purple shadow around my eyes had grown over night, extending to the sides of my nose. My pupils were now completely slitted. I felt slightly nauseous.

"Q_uiet, my little dragon."_ I recalled. Long-buried memories came rushing back- _chakra_, so much chakra, a kind woman and her songs, and her little isolated shack.

My rudimentary alarm clock started bleating, dispersing my thoughts.

Shaking off my grogginess, I stood and put the alarm out of its misery. It was strange, not being awaken by the clamor of the orphanage boys. By habit, I still wore a baggy t-shirt and boxers to sleep. _When I have extra money, I'll buy more feminine clothes. _I promised myself.

Yawning, I glanced around the bedroom of my new apartment, generous and spacious by government-issue housing standards. A monthly stipend came along with my new lodgings. Although it was barely enough for food, bills, and academy materials, I was satisfied. The amount of power and independence I'd been given was extremely satisfying. Besides, I had other means to get money.

Stretching, I drew open my blinds and donned the Academy uniform. All Academy beginner students were issued the same outfit- loose black pants tucked into the signature open-toed sandals, mesh undershirt, and a short-sleeved white robe tied with a thick dark green cloth. Hopefully, I'll be able to wear whatever I want soon.

With a deep breath and a final glance in the mirror, I left.

* * *

My first impression of Class 103B was that...everyone was _so. fucking. stupid. _

Granted, I had a bit of a superiority complex, but this was just ridiculous. In the corner, a gaggle of girls giggled, sneaking glances to the boys in the class. Four boys were trying to unlock the teacher's desk, obviously protected with seals well beyond their caliber. Another group of kids were balancing the sharp end of kunai on their palms, screaming out random jutsu names. _Do they _not _teach weapons safety here?_

As I gawked at the sheer childishness of the class, I noticed two other vital things. All of the students wore the same beginner uniforms, and, judging by appearances, none belonged to any of the local shinobi clans.

With that in mind, I made my way inconspicuously to the back of the classroom and sat down next to the only kid who seemed slightly rational, with his face hidden behind a book-

Titled _Feline Anatomy._

As if he'd noticed my blatant confusion, the kid lowered his book deliberately, revealing a surprise. On his cheeks were two faint red marks, and the tips of pearly white canines poked out from under his top lip- _an Inuzuka, no doubt. _However, his other features weren't so Inuzuka-like. His eyes were almond-shaped, and his long hair was pale platinum blond, tinged with blue.

"My name is Inuzuka Katomaru. You may call me Kato-kun after today if our acquaintanceship proves to be beneficial." The boy said, before returning to his book. "Who are you?"

I stared at the _blond_, _articulate, smart _Inuzuka. "Ryūto."

"Hm. Ryūto-chan, did you know that it takes approximately 24 cat pelts to make a coat?" Kato mused, tapping a finger on the page. "If we skinned all the stray cats in Konohagakure, the entire homeless population would have clothes."

Ignoring his strange remark, I crossed my arms. "I'm a _boy_, Katomaru-san."

Kato lowered his book, cocking his head at me.

Suddenly, he leaned in close, violating all social barriers for personal space as he _sniffed_. After a couple more deep whiffs, he leaned back, nodding knowingly. "Nope, your apocrine glands are definitely producing the scent of a human female."

"Keep it down_," _I hissed as one of the kunai-balancing idiots ran by, screeching as the rest of the gang chased him.

"I don't see the need to. Our classmates can't tell the difference. Honestly, your desire to be seen as male will hold until you reach puber-"

I stomped on his foot under the desk, prompting the boy to glare at me.

"_Not here_," I whispered fiercely.

"Fine, Ryūto-_san_." He sulked. I nodded in satisfaction.

"So," I began, changing the subject. "Is this the only third-year shinobi class?"

Katomaru deliberately ignored me for a little, reading an entire page before answering. "Why do you ask?"

"I met two Academy kids my ages yesterday, but they don't seem to be here."

"And who might they be?"

"Jiraiya and Hatake Sakumo."

Kato chuckled. To my surprise, his laugh was pretty adorable- he giggled like a child, and his deep green eyes crinkled expressively.

"Of course not." He responded as his laughs died out. "This is 103B, the beginner class. The Jiraiya you're looking for is in 103I, the intermediate class. And Sakumo, of course, is part of class 103E, the elites."

A sudden realization dawned upon me; there was skill-based segregation in the Shinobi Academy. That explained why we were surrounded by a bunch of idiotic children. But...

"Why are _you _here? I mean, you sound pretty smart, and you're from a large ninja clan." I reasoned.

In response, Kato pointed towards the front of the classroom. I followed his finger to an official-looking plaque over the blackboard.

_Requirements for Promotion to Class 103I-_

_1) Basic mastery of the henge, the clone, kamiwari and 1 other E-ranked jutsu_

_2) Able to recognize and dispel E-rank and D-rank genjutsu_

_3) 70% target rate for kunai and one other thrown weapon_

_4) Be ranked in the top 5 for class spars_

_5) Show basic knowledge about the history of Konoha, other shinobi nations, and the Will of Fire philosophy_

"I have fulfilled all of the requirements, but I've consistently placed sixth for the last ten sparring sessions," Kato announced.

"I see," I responded, suddenly feeling very inept. The requirements seemed pretty demanding for a bunch of 8-year-olds.

"Most of the elites passed after the first three sparring sessions," Kato continued. "And the 103I kids all trickled within two months. With any luck, I'll finally beat that annoying Mebuki after the next taijutsu session and graduate to 103I."

I examined at the daunting list again, feeling slightly overwhelmed. The noisy children around me suddenly didn't seem so stupid.

* * *

"Oii, it's Ryūto!"

When lunch break rolled around, Kato took me to the roof. Or, more like Kato strolled nonchalantly up the wall, our bento boxes tucked under his arm, while I struggled up a tall tree in the courtyard, muttering curses under my breath every time I lost my grip.

The food- fried fish filets, rice, and a generous portion of porridge- was surprisingly delicious and nutritious, and the view was superb. Half of the other students were gathered at the gates of the Academy, waiting for the Orphanage children to arrive. I was listening half-heartedly to Kato's explanation about the digestive system of cats when a familiar boy vaulted over the roofs to greet me.

"Jiraiya-san," I greeted, after swallowing a mouthful of rice and fried fish.

Jiraiya's grin faltered a little when he saw Kato, who was still lecturing me about feline anatomy, but he took a seat next to me anyways. "Yeah...about yesterday..."

"It's fine," I dismissed quickly. "I'm ok now."

"No, it's not about that. What I'm trying to say is-"

"HEY, LOOK! IT'S THE ORPHANS!"

Both Jiraiya and I winced at the announcement, and I directed my attention back to the bubbling crowd of kids at the gates again. Sure enough, a large group of orphans- around 50 of them or so- were approaching the gates. I recognized a few of the faces, including Warui and Akane. The vicious whispers in the crowd grew louder, and I picked up a few of the phrases.

"...kage-sama thinking?"

"...us share with _them_...?"

"...they look gross!"

I bristled. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw both Kato and Jiraiya notice the change in my demeanor. However, I made no attempt to go down to the ruckus, even when the orphans finally arrived at the gates, lead by the matron.

"Go _away_! Go _away__! __Go away!_" The Academy kids chorused.

The orphans just stared at them, gaunt and bleary-eyed, too afraid to enter. The matron hesitated, her naturally stern expression troubled as she frowned at the belligerent children.

_Where are the teachers? The administrators? _I demanded internally. _Why don't they just have the cooking staff come to give them the bento boxes to take away? It's almost like they're trying to give them a hard time!_

"Their indignance towards Hokage-sama's decision is unwarranted and illogical," Kato quipped beside me.

"Yeah, they're just a bunch o' pussies," Jiraiya added, smashing his fist against his open palm and glancing at me.

If I had any semblance of a hero complex, this would be the moment I gloriously descend from the roof to defend my friends. But no. Doing so will just be asking for trouble- I didn't have the necessary authority to control this situation. Besides, the protesting academy kids were mainly beginners, and their insults were nothing compared to the vulgar bantering exchanged on a daily basis at the orphanage. If the orphans were to eat here for the foreseeable future, they'd have to smooth this out by themselves.

"Please move so we can open the gates, children," the Matron said, her tone level. "We're under the Hokage's orders."

There was some discomfort in the crowd.

"We know, but we don't want you here." Someone declared.

If it weren't for my mounting anger and frustration, I would've rolled my eyes. These pipsqueaks think they can override the Hokage's orders?

There was another brief standstill between the orphans and the students. Then, two kids from the opposite end the courtyard, where a large group of spectators sat on a large picnic blanket, got up.

Jiraiya whistled at the two dark-haired figures. "Oh, _shit_!"

"Excrement, indeed." Kato noted.

"Who are they?" I asked, squinting to get a better view.

"Tsunade-hime's friends, man. They're both elites. Oh _shit_, this is gonna be good! That's Hitaro Hyūga and Kotone Uchiha, Mr. Sparkles and Ms. I'll-Fucking-Murder-You-If-You-Touch-Me-You-Little-Bitch."

"Very fitting monikers," Kato agreed sagely. "As acquaintances of both, I can attest that their personalities are quite...unique."

"You're one to talk," Jiraiya snickered.

"Do you have something to say to me, _Jiraiya?_" Kato challenged.

Meanwhile, Mr. Sparkles and the Uchiha had reached the edge of the crowd. In a swaggering swish of his white robes, the Hyūga twirled into the air, sailed over the mob of students, and landed on top of the gate. At his display, the crowd gasped. The orphans looked confused.

"You guys heard her," He grinned, pearly-white eyes glinting mischievously. There was no curse seal on his forehead- a main branch Hyūga, then. "Go on. Leave these kids alone."

"My flamboyant companion is quite correct," Kotone drawled from behind the crowd, twirling a lick of flame around her fingers. One of the kids shrieked in horror at the sound of her monotone voice. "Leave." The flames flared, turning blue with added chakra.

The students on the gigantic picnic blanket produced a collective "oooooh" at Kotone's trick.

"Those are the elites, mostly Tsunade's friends." Jiraiya pointed towards the picnic blanket. "And intermediates trying to rub shoulders with the Senju princess."

I snorted, watching the Academy mob disperse, keeping a wide berth around Kotone as they scurried away. "So, I'm guessing Mr. Sparkles and Kotone are part of Tsunade's main posse?" _Who knew there were so many politics at play here?_

"Correct," Kato piped up. "As the heir of the Hyūga clan and the niece of the current Uchiha patriarch, they have close ties to the Senju heiress."

"Interesting." I commented, picking up my bento box again, contemplating.

* * *

I didn't now what drove me to do it, but shortly after school ended, I found myself standing at Uzumaki Miko's door, a large plastic bag filled with stolen underwear in hand.

Now, how did I know where she lived? It wasn't really that hard, once I found the alleyway graffitied with "STAY OUT, TRAITOR AHEAD" in bold yellow, and an arrow pointing to the sole townhouse down the way.

Before I could muster up the courage to knock, the door was opened by a tall woman decked out in sweatpants and a tank top. Her fire-red hair was tied partially into a bun, the rest trailing messily down her back. Up close, I noticed deep bags under her sharp grey eyes. She was very different from the neurotic pursuer I remembered.

"You're one of the brats from yesterday," she said, voice heavy as she examined me critically. "What do you want?"

In response, I handed her the bag.

After a long pause, she cautiously took the offered bag, untied the knot, and peered inside. Her eyes widened at the mountain of colorful lace and prints. "Well, thank you, I guess." There was an awkward pause, as Miko glanced back and forth between me and her returned clothing. "I don't suppose, uh, you'd like some tea, or something?"

I shrugged.

Miko looked slightly annoyed. "It's a yes or a no, brat. Make up your mind before I take back my hospitality."

I hesitated, but in the end, my curiosity won over my sense of danger. "Yes, please."

* * *

***a pun on the name Ryuko, which can be Ryu and Ko (dragon and little)**

**Thank to everyone who followed/faved/reviewed/showed general interest in this story! Also, guess who Kato is...:)**


	3. Miko

。 。 。

* * *

**3, [Miko]**

* * *

Kicking off my sandals, I turned them away from Miko's doorstep before following my host through the unexpected clean hallways of her home. I'd expected sloppy furniture, stained floors, and piles of dishes in the sink. Instead, it was well-kept, with cheap but tasteful furniture.

"Make yourself comfortable," Miko said when we reached her dining room. Taking a seat on the tatami mat, I took a look around the sparse room. After a bit of scuffling in the kitchen, Miko brought in a tray of tea and placed it on the low-set table. I waited until she served the green tea before speaking.

"What are the kanji in your name, Uzumaki-san?" It was a good conversation starter- everyone liked talking about themselves, and names usually evoked positive memories.

Sure enough, Miko's face relaxed as she sipped her tea. "I was born on a boat," She began. "My mother was on the Uzushiogakure island patrol, and there was no time to return on land. It was a risky birth, but she made it. She thanked the peaceful waters of Uzushiogakure by naming me after them- Mi as in 美, beautiful, and Ko for 湖, lake." She traced the characters on the cheap wood table.

"That's pretty."

Miko smiled, her lips a thin line. "Care to share your kanji, Ryūto-san?"

"Dragonborn. 龍 for ryū, and 人 for to." It was my turn to demonstrate. I traced the complex characters carefully.

Something flickered across the redhead's face. "It suits you."

I nodded.

Our conversation meandered in all different directions, from the weather to cooking to my thoughts on the Academy. Sometime after two more rounds of tea and a light dinner, Miko suddenly fell silent.

"Uzumaki-san?" I prodded.

"Who _are_ you?"

I blinked. "What?"

"_Who are you?"_ The woman demanded again, prowling forward on the table until her face was barely inches away. I froze. Her sharp grey eyes pinned me down.

I swallowed, beyond uncomfortable. Under the table, I groped for the kunai hidden in the folds on my robe as the tension in the room thickened. "What do you mean?"

"You _know_ what I mean." I drew in a sharp breath. Miko smelled of paper, ink, and tea leaves. In any other setting, it would've been a calming concoction. "If you're really as smart as I think you are, you wouldn't be _here__._" Her eyes shifted around, as if scanning for people hidden in the shadowy corners.

"Why not? You're not a danger to me, Uzumaki-san."

That was the wrong thing to say. Miko's face contorted into a mask of absolute rage, and I was suddenly flying towards the wall. As my back collided against the bamboo planks with a fleshy thunk, Miko twisted my head sideways, her hold suspending me above ground. The kunai in my hand clattered to the ground.

"Then allow me to remind you," the redhead hissed, "Of who _I _am." I flinched as she slammed her free hand onto the wall beside me, sending vibrations thrumming through my body.

Grunting, I launched a kick towards her stomach. Miko easily dodged my knee and tossed me out into the hallway. I used my momentum to roll into a stand, feeling a strange sensation spread through my body.

"You've overstayed your welcome tonight. Leave," The ex-A-rank kunoichi announced. Facing her, I retreated warily down the hallway. Just as I reached the door, Miko caught me completely off-guard. "And only return when you're ready."

* * *

"Ryūto-kun!"

Groggily, I turned towards the bright voice, squinting as the morning sun assaulted my retinas. It was Katomaru, waving eagerly as he strode over to me. I paused in front of the Academy's open gates.

"Morning person, aren't you?" I yawned, scratching my ribs as the beaming boy caught up, a svelte blond woman and a grumpy-looking blond kid in tow. From the lack of pupils in their cerulean eyes, they must've been Yamanakas. _Weird._ I thought. _Kato's an Inuzuka, right?_

"Correct, Ryūto-kun. My happiness levels are the highest before 10:00 a.m." Kato chirped. "As promised, you may refer to me as Kato-kun from now on."

I smiled despite my exhaustion. "So our acquaintanceship is beneficial, Kato-kun?"

"Yes. You are one of the only people in our age group who can respond to me intellectually, and your patience and dry humor makes for good company."

"Is this the Ryūto that you spoke of last night, Kato-kun?" I was basking in Kato's warm words when the Yamanaka woman stepped up beside my friend. The metal of her Leaf headband glinted in the sunlight as she scanned me analytically. She had the air of the perfect kunoichi- toned, tall, intimidating, with just the right touch of charisma, beauty, and seriousness.

"Hai, kaa-san." Kato acknowledged her with a wide grin. "Ryūto-kun, this is my mother, Yamanaka Inodan. Kaa-san, this is Ryūto-kun, my strange friend."

I blinked.

And blinked again, staring dumbly at mother and son.

Kato...Kato...Ino_dan_...dan..._Dan _Kato.

_Holy shit._ Inuzuka Katomaru was _Dan Kato._ Tsunade's future fiancé. His blonde hair and his spirit-projecting powers were because he was a fucking _Yamanaka. Half _Yamanaka_, half_ Inuzuka_._ Sometime in the future, he must've taken part of his mother's first name as his last, ignoring the two clan names for something more personal.

Finishing my earth-shattering revelation, I bowed to the imposing blonde woman. "Good morning, Yamanaka-san." I greeted, still slightly shell-shocked.

Inodan appraised me before surprising me with a very shallow bow in return. "You have good manners, Ryūto-san. Who are your parents?"

"Taka and Daisuke Hisoru. They're both from lower-middle class civilian families, deceased as of two years ago."

The woman seemed the slightest bit taken back by my bluntness, but recovered her professional facade quickly. "Those names sound familiar."

I nodded. "Yeah. They were, uh..." I hesitated before continuing. "They were caught up in the civilian uprisings."

Inodan closed her sky-colored eyes. "Those were tumultuous times. For what my words are worth, I am sorry."

I sighed, scratching at the itchy spot on my ribs again. As much as I hated hearing that phrase, I thanked her anyways. I glanced down as memories washed over me- the bloodied sheets, the tang of blood, the mangled bodies...

Inodan cleared her throat gently, dispelling my grim remembrances. "Well, it's good to see my son has finally found a friend, but my mission debriefing starts in fifteen minutes. Goodbye, Ryūto-san, Kato-kun," she leaned down to kiss her son of the forehead. "And you too, Inoshi-kun." She addressed the blonde boy, who'd watched us silently the entire time. Inoshi smiled at her.

As soon as Inodan left, Inoshi's smile fell away.

"Freak," He sneered at me. Before I could give him a piece of my mind, he gave Kato a haughty snicker before sashaying away.

"Ryūto-kun, meet Inoshi, my cousin." Kato said tersely as Inodan disappeared into the morning crowd.

My expression hardened. _Cousin, eh?_

"Let's go, Kato-kun," I grabbed the half-blooded Yamanaka by the elbow, dragging him towards another day of school as my thoughts swirled.

* * *

"_Hisoru!_"

"Hai?" I startled out of my flirtations with sleep.

"Daydreaming again? This is your second time today." The teacher- what was his name? Isuzu? Osuzu? shook his head. My classmates snickered.

"No, I was paying attention," I lied through my teeth.

"Oh?" Isuzu-sensei drawled, clacking shut the book dangling between his fingers. "Tell me, what are we doing today?"

I opened my mouth to bullshit something, but Kato kicked me under the desk and angled his book towards me. I glanced at the small note he'd scrawled in the margin.

"It's spar day." I answered.

Isuzu-sensei narrowed his eyes, but Kato had returned to fake note-taking. "I hope that you did more than nap to prepare, because we have some rather interesting submissions today." With that, he opened up his book amidst excited whispering and resumed lecturing.

The nuances of senbon poisons and antidotes were lost on me as I processed what he said. "Kato-kun, what does he mean by submissions?" I whispered.

Kato winced. "Students are allowed to submit anonymous challenges for spar days. Those submissions are watched first. Then, after the challenges are finished, we're paired off for class rank spars."

"So...anyone can challenge anyone?"

Kato nodded.

"What if say, one of the elites, challenged...uh, one of us?"

"Then we endure humiliation for 25 minutes, and try to come out in one piece." Kato informed me curtly. "It's considered bad sportsmanship, but some still do it."

_It sounds like he's been through this before_. "Inoshi-san...he challenges you a lot, doesn't he?"

In response, Kato drew open the front of his uniform. I was presented a multitude of black and blue bruises. "What do you think?" Kato sighed. "Every single week, we're the first names called. He always hits in places where others, especially my mother, can not see."

"Kato..."

"Not a word, Ryū-chan. This is something that I must take care of myself." Kato drew his robe closed again. I didn't even bother correcting the honorific.

"He's why you're stuck here," I continued, realization dawning upon me. "In the beginners' class. Not because you can't beat Mebuki or whatever. It's because Inoshi beats you up so you can't fight well during the class spars."

Kato gave me a half-smile as he finished adjusting his belt. "This is why I like you, Ryū-chan. You _understand_."

"_Inuzuka__!" _Isuzu screeched, effectively stopping our little heart-to-heart.

* * *

After the little fiasco with Mr. Sparkles and Kotone Uchiha, the orphans made a peaceful entrance today. I squirmed next to Kato on our rooftop seats, watching my friends enter.

"You may go if you want to," Kato said, nibbling on a rice ball. "I don't mind."

I bumped him with my elbow. "Thanks."

With that, I whipped out two kunai, jumped off the side of the roof, and dug the blades and my ankles into the walls to slide down the three-story structure. It was a nifty little trick Kato had shown me, and surprisingly easy.

Once on ground level, I sauntered across the courtyard and followed the kids into the cafeteria. I waited until they'd all received their designated bentos, found a seat, and for the hubbub to bubble to a comfortably loud level before taking a seat next to Warui.

"Hey guys," I greeted. All conversation halted as the gang recognized me. I prepared for tears and smiles and glomps-

Instead, I received a punch from Warui.

For the second time in 24 hours, I was sent skidding backwards. Grabbing my throbbing jaw, I glared vindictively at the brunette as I got up from the cold floor. "_What the hell was that for?"_

"That's for you not showing up yesterday." Warui cracked his knuckles.

Unfamiliar anger flared up inside of me. I leave them alone _once _and they turn upon me? "What about the past two years? Who fed you, huh? And who's the reason why you're here now?" I rounded upon them. "Some thankful little shits you are."

At my outburst, some of the meeker ones shied away. Others, like Warui, only became more agitated.

"The old Ryūto will never get angry!" Warui exclaimed.

"That's because I _didn't have a reason to, _you fat fuck!" I grabbed a fistful of the round boy's shirt. To my surprise, there was an uncharacteristic look of fear on his face. With an aggravated sigh, I released him. "_Fuck_ this."

With that, I stormed out of the dead-silent cafeteria, taking my temper with me. I wandered around for a little, trying to walk off the steam. Eventually I settled in a quiet little alcove. I wasn't ready to return to Kato yet, not like this.

I hugged my knees to my chest and tucked my chin on top. I'd worked my ass off for those kids. I'd slept next to them, played with them, roughhoused with them, laughed with them, and suffered with them for _two years. _And this is how they repay me? I hadn't felt this betrayed since...

Since I became Orochimaru.

I buried my face into my hands. Hot tears prick at my eyes. I might've stolen, lied, and fought more than I ever thought was possible over the last two years, but deep down, I was still that asthma-weakened, emotional woman who'd cried at the smallest of things.

The clang of a gong jolted me out of my pitiful brooding. I looked up from my little corner as everyone flocked towards the center of the courtyard, murmuring excitedly.

"Shit." The spars were starting. The sadness in my gut churned into nervousness.

"Alright, you kids know the drill!" Isuzu-sensei announced in the middle of the sparring circle, a scroll in hand. "Sit down, shut up, watch, and learn. We have 10 challenges today. First up, Yamana- wait." Isuzu brought the scroll closer to his face. The murmurings intensified as everyone realized he'd made a mistake.

_Poor Kato, _I thought, remembering the myriad of bruises on his torso as I walked towards the crowd.

"First up today is _not _Yamanaka Inoshi and Inuzuka Katomaru," Isuzu corrected himself. "Hatake Sakumo has challenged-"

The crowd around me exploded, and Isuzu was cut off.

Someone grabbed my shoulder. "Dude! _Sakumo's_ challenging someone!"

"So?" I shook their hand off, trying to shove my way to the front. Which wasn't working, since everyone else was doing the same.

"He's _never ever _challenged anyone before! Not even Jiraiya!"

"_Quiet_!" Isuzu-sensei stomped. The impact of his foot sent a shockwave through the ground- he laced his stomp with chakra, that bastard- and the noise level simmered down. "Let Hatake Sakumo and his opponent, Hisoru Ryūto, through!"

The world around me spun to a stop.

"_Fuck._" I breathed.

Pushing past the confused crowd with renewed vigor, I popped into the sparring ring. Across from me stood that monotone freak, relaxed and intimidating. His expression was bored, tinged with contempt.

I glowered at him.

He scoffed.

My arrival prompted Isuzu to retreat to the side, where he motioned for everyone to sit down before turning back to us. "Challenger, ready?" Sakumo responded by bringing his right hand up to his chest in a perfect tiger seal, and stepping gracefully into a ready stance.

"Challenger, ready?" I mimicked Sakumo, summoning memories of martial arts lessons from long ago. As he began to circle, I copied his movements as best as I could.

"Remember, this is purely a taijutsu spar. No weapons, ninjutsu, genjutsu, chakra-enhanced moves, or clan taijutsu combos. Aim for a knockout- your opponent must stay on the ground for more than ten seconds for you to win. You have ten minutes."

I couldn't think. My heartbeat was too loud, my arms were shaking, and trails of sweat were trickling down my neck.

"Begin!"

Sakumo dashed towards me. I poured every ounce of focus into watching him. I barely responded in time, jumping as he dropped into a low sweep. At my evasion, Sakumo twisted his body, using the momentum of his outstretched leg to bring the other one up into a brutal side kick that caught me across the stomach.

The crowd exploded into cheers at the beautiful maneuver. I crumpled to the packed earth, rolling to my side and clutching my stomach in pain.

Watching anime fights is very different from being in one. It was a _lot_ harder than it looked-not everyone had godly levels of pain tolerance, cat-like reflexes, and acrobatic grace. But there was no time to dwell on that. Wincing, I got to my feet just in time to be on the receiving end of a perfectly executed series of kicks.

As Sakumo continued to annihilate me, I tried to adapt, to anticipate, to react. But the differences in our training were stark, and with each attack, I became more and more winded, and it took me longer and longer to get up. If I wanted to win...or _do something, _I needed to try something else. If only I could argue with him again...at least we were on equal standing in terms of wit.

An idea popped into my head. It was crazy, and I wasn't sure if I could even pull it off, but at this point, I was desperate enough.

"Hey, Hatake-san," I grinned, barely sidestepping a punch. As intended, Sakumo glanced at me in surprise, faltering minutely. My grin widened. "_You suck."_

Sakumo kicked me in the stomach.

This time, I was prepared. With my abs and thighs tensed, the impact only caused me to lose my balance. "No, seriously." Another kick. "Out of everyone, you chose to challenge _me_ for your debut fight? Come on! You're a _coward_." A jab. "Are you doing this to make yourself feel better? You shouldn't." An uppercut. "Because I _suck_." A punch to the face.

I licked up the blood from my freshly split lip, courtesy of Sakumo's fist. Sakumo's face was still apathetic, but a strange jerkiness was starting to creep into his movements. "Really, if you were looking for a good spar, there's plenty of people out there who could give you a better fight. You're just bullying me right now."

"Will you _shut up_?" Sakumo broke apart from me to say.

"Short temper?" I laughed, sounding pathetically nervous.

"No. You're being _annoying_." With that, Sakumo dove down, grabbed my thighs, whirled me over his shoulder, and dumped me on the ground. The wrestling move knocked the wind out of me. I groaned as white-hot pain crackled over my entire body. The crowd erupted into wild hoots and calls as the seconds ticked by.

"Then," I wheezed as Sakumo leaned over me. "Why...why are you doing this?"

Sakumo's expression was carefully schooled. "Where were you last night?"

"At...at Miko's," I whispered. "But that's none of your business."

"No." What's with him and contradicting everything I say? "You were fraternizing with a traitor, and endangering yourself."

I growled. "Ok, maybe she tossed me around a little and threw me out, but we were getting along pretty well before that."

"Then what's this?" I nearly screamed as Sakumo reached a hand down my shirt, pressing his palm into the itchy spot on my ribs.

I slapped his arm. "_Hands off, pervert!"_

Sakumo rolled his eyes and retracted his hand. "It's a seal, Ryūto."

"_Seal?" _

Before Sakumo could answer me, there was a rapid gust of wind. Two masked, white-clad figures appeared behind Sakumo in a swirl of dust, pulling him away. The shadows of two more fell over me. They grabbed my arms and yanked me up, shackling my wrists together before I could even protest.

By the time the Academy students realized that there were now _four _ANBU standing in front of them, a fifth one appeared, holding a very official looking stamped decree.

"Hatake Sakumo and Hisoru Ryūto," he announced. "You are now under arrest as suspects for the murder of Uzumaki Miko."

* * *

**_lol poor Ryūto got beat up so much in this chapter_**


	4. Mito

**。。。**

**4, [Mito-sama]**

* * *

Smothered in red and white fans, Konoha's police station was practically a Uchiha propaganda shrine. The halls were decorated with fan motifs, the door to my holding cell had a large fan scorched into it, and the only piece of furniture inside- an iron stool that looked like a torture apparatus- had a small fan insignia smelted on.

Once strapped to the weird stool, I was left with my thoughts for what seemed like hours. My alarm had faded into a fluttery, nauseating sensation in the pit of my stomach_._ Meanwhile, burning pain and soreness covered me like a heavy cloak. _Thanks a lot Sakumo-asshole. You could've just talked to me in private._

A steady supply of adrenaline kept my thoughts whirring and my senses sharp, but it didn't help me _understand-_ understand _why Miko was dead_, _why there was a seal on me, _or _why _I sat here- shackled,_ and charged with her murder_. Did she set me up? Even if she did, _how?_ Sakumo was right- I shouldn't have given my trust to a complete stranger so easily.

And I couldn't even begin to fathom how Sakumo factored into all this. Sure, he wasn't exactly fond of Miko, but there was no way an academy student could've killed a jounin-level ninja, Hatake scion or not.

I had a feeling that something big was going on, and I was caught in the middle of it, blind-folded. I clenched my hands.

"Don't even try," my guard warned, mistaking my sudden tension as a sign of struggle. The uniformed Uchiha woman was leaning against the wall, one sandaled foot kicked up behind her, arms folded in front in the signature teenage douchebag pose. Somehow, it made her seem understatedly lethal.

"I'm not," I blinked innocently.

She made a noise of vague amusement. "Why haven't you wet your pants yet?" The pressure in the cold room increased minutely. "Aren't you scared?"

I shrugged as much as the straps allowed.

She tilted her left side away from the wall, revealing an angry-looking purple bruise on her shoulder. I thought of Katō's scarred chest, and prayed that he'll still be my friend after this.

"You're strange," she commented.

"You're boring," I countered.

"There are 179 people in this building who can kill you in less than two seconds. I'm one of them. You shouldn't think I'm boring. You should be _scared_. You should be shaking. Or doing something besides looking like you're..._bored_."

"But you won't," I said self-assuredly. "Because I'm innocent. I didn't kill Miko-san."

She smiled. "I'm a shinobi. If my job is to kill an innocent child, I wouldn't care."

I almost flinched. The reminder that ninjas operated on a completely different morality scale slapped me in the face.

The door of my holding cell swung open, and a tall blonde woman walked in. I stifled a gasp.

"Inod- _Yamanaka-san_?"

Inodan's maternal warmth had all but disappeared, replaced by professional seriousness. She was twice as intimidating now, and her piercing blue eyes bore into mine.

"Ryūto." She addressed as she stood before me.

"What, you're on first-name terms with all our murder-charges now?" The female guard jeered.

Inodan's unforgiving face turned to the guard. "It's expected of me to know everything about special prisoners before interrogation. If you want to be promoted from guard duty anytime soon, you should try _learning_ from your commander. Do you understand, Mikage?_"_

The female guard seethed.

"I asked," Inodan repeated slowly, voice sharp as a freshly sharpened blade. "Do you _understand?"_

_"Hai, Yamanaka-taichou." _Mikage forced out.

"Good. Remember why you were demoted, Mikage."

I watched their exchange, entranced by the sharpness of Inodan's tone and the rebellious Uchiha. _Mikage must've been in a higher-ranking position before, _I realized. _And now she's pissed because Inodan's her superior._

With one final stern glare, the T&amp;I captain turned to face me. "Now, I will be performing a precursory scan of your mind to check for foreign sources. Your head will feel hot, but try not to squirm."

Her palm gripped my head, and before I could even blink, she was _in my mind_.

Calling it strange was an understatement. I could still see everything, but I felt Inodan- a completely different entity wrapped in completely different thoughts- inside of my head, seeing through _my eyes_. It was like an unbearable itch, and I could only helplessly squirm against her iron grip. Soon, my forehead grew hot, so hot that my vision blurred from the sweat that began to permeate my hair. All I could do was pray that she'll finished before she discovered some of the more...interesting parts of me.

Finally, the itch faded. Inodan removed her sweaty palm, wiping her hand on her leg. I collapsed in my seat, grateful for the straps and hooks that held me in place. The room swam around in my eyesight, blurring with random memories.

"Well, that was unexpected." I heard Inodan say. Panic fluttered through me. Did she... "Ryuko-chan, is it?"

I nearly sighed in relief. _That_, I could deal with. "Yeah. For safety, you know?"

Inodan nodded slowly. "Sooner or later you will have to tell, but I will leave it to your discretion for now."

"Thank you, Yamanaka-san." I breathed.

The woman was already half way out the door when she paused, turning her head only slightly over her shoulder. "Don't worry, Ryūto-kun. I know."

The lock clicked quietly behind her, and I swallowed.

"What was that all about?" Mikage asked, staring at the door with enough intensity to burn through it.

"Dunno," I muttered under my breath, though I understood. I was innocent, and she knew it.

So why was I here?

* * *

Uzumaki Mito was one of those rare powerful women who had such a strong presence that you wouldn't expect anything- not even the death of the love of her life- to dull her spirit. Thus, Nara Shikae was shocked to the core when her former teammate shied away from the public eye, and withdrew herself from her wide circle of friends after Hashirama Senju's death.

That was almost three years ago. After the Shodai's funeral, Shikae tried everything to coax Mito out of her self-imposed isolation, but to no avail. And it wasn't just Shikae who suffered in Mito's absence- the entire Tactics &amp; Intelligence Unit felt the loss of their Uzumaki seal prodigy.

As a high-ranking woman in the Uzumaki clan, Mito grew up saturated in fuuinjutsu- the matriarchal clan practically revolved around the art, after all. But Shikae knew that Mito had always been more of a thinker than an artist, more of a leader than a wife. So when Hashirama Senju arrived in Uzushiogakure 25 years ago and declared that he was in love with her, Shikae knew that the reasons for their eventual marriage extended beyond Mito's bold beauty and fiery power. The union of two renowned shinobi clans brought Konoha an excellent seals master and tactics expert as well.

So, when the former Tactics &amp; Intelligence Unit captain strolled into Uzumaki's townhouse, decked out in full battle regalia, freshly minted sense-heightening seals dangling from her buns, every single shinobi on site dropped what they were doing and _stared_.

"What a mess," Mito sighed at the grotesque corpse of her younger sister, ignoring the reactions of the other shinobi. She paused at the body, narrowing her eyes at the blotchy face and swollen, scale-covered limbs before whirling around to face the flabbergasted nin. "Get back to work, all of you."

Shikae watched as the shinobi went back to sampling and searching and tracing, too stunned to speak for once. She stood frozen as Mito finished her initial inspection, stood in a flutter of robes, and strolled over to the mute Nara matriarch.

"Has being away from me dulled your wit, Shikae-chan?" Mito teased good-natrely.

Shikae shook her head. Her curly black hair bounced other shoulders. "_Mito_." She managed.

"Yes, glad to see you haven't forgotten."

_She's here. Out of her house. Voluntarily. _Sniffling dramatically, Shikae threw her arms around the redhead, crushing their bodies together. "MITO-CHAN!" Her declaration was half-wail, half-sob.

Mito sighed over Shikae's shoulder, patting her on the back. "Yes, Shikae-chan, I know you've missed me. But I have to scan Miko's body."

Shikae sniffed, giving her friend one final squeeze before releasing her. Shikae knew that adopting a childish, dramatic personality will subconsciously remind Mito of Hashirama, and thus make her feel more at ease. Whenever possible, she tried to amp up her already outgoing nature around the redhead, like now.

Mito crouched down beside her sister's horribly mutilated body, trailing a hand gently over the strange spikes that protruded from her back, her gnarled fingers, and her glassy eyes.

Shikae settled back, watching the sensor-type work her magic. After collaborating with Mito for so long, she knew that she would be done soon- ah. The redhead stood again, a troubled expression on her face.

"Senjutsu," Mito announced. Shikae cocked her head in a quirky gesture that Hashirama would use when listening to his wife, waiting for her to elaborate. "She overdosed on sage chakra, _foreign _sage chakra, which is extremely lethal for people whose bodies aren't compatible. But how? Miko can't-"

A flash understanding flickered across her features. In a sudden motion Mito swooped down, rolled Miko's limp body around, and pushed back her tank top.

Shikae paled. On the dead woman's scaly stomach, there was large hexagonal seal. Mito's jaw clenched in anger. Not good. "It's a chakra-siphoning seal, the receiving end." She quipped to Shikae, voice cold. _Ah. So that's how she died._

Mito stood, raising her voice. "Have any of you found sealing materials? Brushes, chakra-infused ink, paper?"

"Yeah." Someone answered from the small dining room. "There was a whole box of sealing supplies under a floor tile in here, and a really big seal hidden under the wall paper."

"_Miko, you little-_" Mito swallowed her growl, stepping over her sister's body to storm into the dining room.

Shikae followed, quickly processing everything she'd just learned. Miko's strange deformities were a manifestation of taking in too much sage chakra. The chakra's source was the seal on her stomach, which was connected to another seal on someone else, who probably wasn't even aware of it- oh.

Shikae frowned at the implications. Miko wasn't really _murdered_\- it was more like she committed accidental suicide. But just who could her chakra source- someone with _sage chakra_\- be?

* * *

"Ryūto's the one with the seal, not me."

Uzumaki Mito stared at the silver-haired child, her eyes strangely unfocused. She muttered "Not even an pinch of sage chakra in that boy," and stalked away before even stepping foot in Hatake Sakumo's cell. A curly-haired woman that Sakumo recognized as the strangely energetic Nara clan head trailed after her, bouncing with excitement and twittering about being able to work with "her beloved Mito-chan again, mou".

They were very strange for two of the most powerful shinobi in the village.

* * *

Many, many years ago, I found a tattered copy of _Naruto: Volume 1 _at a thrift shop. I flipped through it, decided that the mediocre art and childish storyline was worth being a dollar less rich, and brought it home. A month later I had a copy of every single volume in print, several posters of my favorite characters, and a rather suggestive pillow case.

However, being _reborn _into a very well-constructied, fully thought-out, and _uncensored _parallel universe that resembled a _fictional world _was too much. It was too much the first time I realized just _whose _body I'd inherited, too much the first time when I saw the two faces on the Hokage Monument, too much the first time I witnessed _why _Orochimaru had such a sadistic personality.

And now, speaking to Uzumaki Mito- a living, breathing _Uzumaki Mito _with hair so red it _glowed _and fine lines of age around her eyes- it was _too much_.

"...come again?" I asked slowly, my throat dry.

To her credit, Mito was patient. Then again, she wasn't very expressive, especially compared to her curly-haired- _curly-haired! imagine that!- _Nara companion, whose doe-black eyes, wide smile, and round diamond earrings did nothing to hide the cunning in her face.

"You killed my sister," Mito repeated. "But it was her fault."

"Oh." _What_.

"Last night, you arrived at Miko's house to reconcile for a prank, right?" I nodded, and Mito continued. "Then, she invited you inside. She acted friendly, served you tea, and you two chatted. A little bit later, you ended up pinned against the wall of her dining room."

"Yeah," I confirmed. _How did you know_? went unasked- Mito was a competent ninja, considering she had sealed the fucking nine-tailed fox inside of her in the middle of a very stressful battle.

"Miko pushed you against a very specific portion of the wall. Under the wallpaper, there was a seal array used to help put seals on humans." Mito explained. "She must've made contact with your ribs, because you have a chakra siphoning seal there now." She pointed to the same spot Sakumo had touched earlier.

_Chakra...siphoning? _"Wait, why siphon my chakra? I mean, I don't think I'm the best source. I can't even _use _it."

The Nara woman chuckled. Mito looked at me like I was stupid.

"Well," Mito began. "That's not surprising, considering you've been in a constant sage mode for the past eight years of your life. Ever wondered why you looked like that? Or why you can never feel your chakra?"

Her words hit me like a ton of bricks.

_Constant sage mode._ _God_, it made _so much sense_. My pale skin, my _eyes_, the weird purple eyeshadow, memories of chakra being cycled through me as an infant-

"How much chakra do I have?" I asked, voice quiet.

"As much as you can pull from the environment around you." Mito informed me. "Which is potentially unlimited, once you're trained. See, because your body is so used to having nature chakra inside of it, your chakra composition is half nature chakra, half spiritual and physical chakra. This is a much greater proportion than normal people could retain, even after decades and decades of training. Miko, on the other hand, was never trained as a sage. She overdosed and died immediately when she tried to drain chakra from you."

I nodded slowly, still shell-shocked at my discovery. _Orochimaru had an advantage over the other sannin from the very_ beginning, I realized._ He was _born _a sage__._

"I'm surprised you even know what she's talking about," the Nara woman commented. "Mito-chan's always sprouting these big words about chakra and seals. Sometimes I can't keep up, mou."

If it weren't for my enormous revelation, I would've slammed my face into my hand. On top of her personality, she just _had _to have a cutesy verbal tic, didn't she?

"As if you can't, Shikae." Mito gave this newly dubbed Shikae a dry look.

"Wah! So scary, Mito-chan." Shikae squealed, scurrying backwards in a bounce of black curls. Seeing a grown woman act like that was disturbing. She reminded me of Hashirama.

Mito sighed and turned back to me again. "Anyways, it's not your fault Miko's dead, but please be careful the next time you enter someone's house."

I dipped my head in shame. "I'm very sorry, Uzumaki-sama."

"Don't be. We never got along. If anything, I have to thank you for alerting us of Miko's behavior. There was a reason why I sealed away her chakra, after all. Shikae," Mito called, voice suddenly commanding. At the tone, Shikae's smile faded, and she stood a little taller. "I want you to trace all of Miko's recent activity. Find out _everything_\- her contacts, where she got her supplies from, other people she's siphoned, and most importantly, _why_ she needs chakra."

"Hai, Mito-taichou." Shikae gave her a salute, and burst into thousands of tiny black flecks. I gaped at the display.

"Did she just...?"

Mito waved her hand at the black flecks in dismissal. "That was a fancy teleportation jutsu combined with a shadow-solidifying technique. She must've liked you if she showed off a little. But never mind Shikae. Now, I will tell you about your mother."

* * *

**ANOTHER CLIFF HANGER MWAHAHA**

**On another note, I'm happy to see this story's been so well received! Also, did this chapter flow well? What about Shikae and Mito?**


	5. Mother

。。。

**5, [Mother]**

* * *

_20 years ago_

* * *

If Shikae was the Sun, then Mamushi would be her shadow; moving in synchrony, never falling behind,_ Mito thought._

_"Baka Mito-chan! I'm the Nara, so I should be the shadow!"_

_"Be quiet!" Jostled out of her half-asleep state, Mito slapped a hand across her loud teammate's mouth. Shikae struggled, fake tears streaming down her face._

_"Mito-chan is so violent, mou! I can't believe Hashirama-kun married her!" The Nara spouted indignantly, voice muffled._

_"Mito, you were talking in your sleep again. And Shikae, stop being dumb." The third member of Tactics &amp; Intelligence's alpha team said between laughs. True to her namesake, Mamushi's eyes were a startling shade of green that bordered on yellow. They darkened to a rich amber color when she was amused._

_At Mamushi's taunt, Shikae wrenched herself out of Mito's grasp, turning back to the ongoing game of Go between her and Mamushi. She stuck her tongue out at the other dark-haired woman. "If I'm dumb, then how am I beating you?"_

_Mamushi leaned back, her segmented black armor clinking as she relaxed on the gigantic table. It was 2:00a.m., and the trio had long given up on productive work. As Shikae and Mamushi challenged each other's massive intellects in a game of Go, Mito had drifted slowly off to sleep._

_"Because I'm letting you." Mamushi replied nonchalantly, brushing back a strand of void-black hair._

_Mito glanced at their game and almost smiled despite her exhaustion and annoyance. Even in an game, Shikae and Mamushi behaved like light and shadow. Mamushi was just a tiny bit behind Shikae, but she was close enough that Shikae would never be able to pull ahead and break free._

_Shikae's competitive streak overtook her child complex momentarily, and her round eyes narrowed as she moved a black piece._

_Mamushi responded in a matter of seconds, a smirk going across her plain features as she moved a white piece, successfully cutting off Shikae's advance._

_It was another late night in the cramped headquarters. All the other shinobi had gone home, exhausted by the workload and scarred by the war. Even though their unit was the brain behind all of Konohagakure's military operations, they were still given the smallest spaces. Mito was going to ask Hashirama to build them something better when he returned from his latest scouting mission._

_For now, she was content to watch Shikae play against her shadow, not knowing that one day, they will tear away from each other._

* * *

"Senju Mamushi," I recited slowly, tracing the kanji for the deadly Japanese viper on the softness of my thin blanket.

_Sen-ju Ma-mu-shi. My mother's name. _I smiled into my pillow. How ironic- a viper, mother of a dragon. I pictured her in my head- heavy-hipped, clad in black Senju body armor, her features plain except her eyes, a shade of light green that bordered on yellow. It was surreal, knowing that the woman who'd birthed me- an impossible figure- into this world was _real. _She_\- Senju Mamushi-_ had a name, had an identity, had a history.

All night long, the only thing I could think of was her. My mother, a member of Konoha's legendary Shadow Trio, along with Uzumaki Mito and Nara Shikae. Without their combined brainpower, Konohagakure would've perished in the First Shinobi War.

_What amazing women. __Just like my first mother._ The gentle woman had sacrificed her dreams and ambitions to raise me, her pathetic asthmatic daughter. My chest tightened. _Later. I'll remember later._

Mito had dismissed me after a few tales of my mother's exploits, and telling me to stay silent about Miko and Mamushi until she finished sorting everything out. I asked _where _Mamushi was, if I could meet her, or at least see a picture of her- all in due time, she'd said.

I rolled around on my tiny bed. I was too awake, too giddy to sleep. _I'm a Senju. A fucking Senju! _Never mind being stuffed into Orochimaru's body, I was a member of one of the legendary shinobi clans. The clan of a thousand skills was bound had to have a member who specialized in Senjutsu, and who gave birth to a baby so saturated in sage chakra it was in _constant sage mode _its entire life. Namely me.

The very thought of Orochima- _my _body's uniqueness sent tingles of excitement down my spine. I was incapable of summoning my chakra not due to incompetency, but because mine was a _special_, _ultra _rare form that defied all conventional methods. Another thought followed. If Senju Mamushi was indeed my mother, then that meant I was a Senju...and distantly related to Tsunade. I burst out laughing. It was _absurd_ to think that Orochi- _I_\- was related to the blonde princess.

Floating in a infinite sea of thoughts, I eventually drifted to sleep, dreaming once more of Mamushi's garden and her strange lullabies.

* * *

_10 years ago_

* * *

_Senju Mamushi was in love._

_Shikae was the first to notice the subtle changes- how Mamushi smiled more- how she started wearing lipstick- how she looked on with equal amounts of admiration and jealousy whenever Hashirama dropped into the headquarters to spoil Mito with kisses and candy and flowers like he was still courting her, even though their three children were already well into their teenage years._

_Today was one of those days the Shodai Hokage decided to pop into the T&amp;I bureau for lunch, and share a bento with his darling Mito. As Hashirama laughed at his own jokes and Mito smiled more at his attitude than his humor, Mamushi sat in the corner, picking at her mound of salad greens with a pair of delicate chopsticks while sneaking glances at Konoha's Golden Couple. Oh, and she was on a diet, too. Not great for a ninja, but it did wonders for bringing out curves._

_Shikae slapped on a huge smile and popped off her desk, making her way across the massive room towards Mamushi._

_"Oh, hello, Shikae-chan." Mamushi grinned lopsidedly after an uncharacteristic delay. "You look nice today."_

_Shikae almost scoffed, but that would've been out of character. "It's just the deer oil shampoo, mou. Mito-chan and Hashi-kun are really cute together, aren't they?"_

_"Was I staring?" Mamushi mumbled. "But yes, it's amazing how they're still so close after so many years. If I-" Mamushi trailed off._

_Shikae smiled at her incoherency. The normally aloof and mischievous Mamushi was reduced to a blubbering maiden. It's almost as if this was her first crush. After a few awkward bites of salad on Mamushi's part, Shikae decided to go for the kill._

_"So, who do you think of when you see Mito-chan and Hashi-kun? Who do you want to marry, Mushi-chan?" Shikae made sure to lilt her voice so she would sound friendly, but not overly inquisitive._

_Mamushi startled, but her shinobi instincts minimized the reaction to a subtle shift in her posture. "No one in particular. Love like that just makes you smile a little on the inside, you know?" _Damn. She's stepping back into beat already_. To anyone else, Mamushi's reaction would've been natural, and the topic would've been dropped. __But Shikae was a master of presentation herself, and she knew Mamushi's crush was more complicated than she thought if she was trying to hide it already. "Anyways, Shikae-chan, try some of this pickled plum, it's deli-"_

_"No thanks, I'm having venison steak. Can't let cute deer be slaughtered for nothing, mou!" With that, Shikae whipped out her own lunchbox, not knowing that Mamushi's little crush would spiral out of control until even she, the master of manipulation, couldn't control it anymore._

* * *

"Oi, Shikaro. You're actually awake?"

The Nara heiress in question turned to Yamanaka Inoshi, who was stealing pastries from an oblivious Akimichi Chousei. The trio lounged around in the empty 103E classroom, sharing lunches. The current Ino-Shika-Cho generation, despite being Elites in the Shinobi Academy, were rather unimpressive. Inoshi was a stern-faced, tight-lipped boy with sleek blond hair that laid perfectly flat on his head. He'd been gelling it since last year, much to the dismay of his mother and aunt. Chousei was a pretty, plump girl, but her heavily-lidded brownish-gold eyes only brightened at the sight of her best friends or delicious food.

And Shikaro? She was the polar opposite of her mother- her spiky, untamed hair stretched down her back, and despite being the tender age of nine, she already had the disposition of a cranky old woman.

"Yeah. Lots of things are happening today." Shikaro yawned. Chousei took the opportunity to stuff a red-bean filled pastry in her mouth.

"You look skinny, Shika-chan," Chousei batted her eyelashes at Shikaro's passionless glare. "I'm only tryna to help!"

Shikaro frowned, but ate the pastry anyways.

"Ugh, I can't believe that stupid mutt got moved up to the Intermediate class," Inoshi bursted out, expressing his ire with a sharp slap to the table.

Chousei patted Inoshi on the arm, stuffing her face with more sweets.

"Watch your mouth, pig," Shikaro warned. "Katomaru beat you fair and square. It was your fault for underestimating your cousin."

"If it weren't for that Ryūto kid, I would've beaten him! Watching him get beat up by Sakumo really got him going. It really pisses me off to see them with Jiraiya. Look at them! They look so happy together!" Inoshi ranted, pointing to the three distinctive figures sitting atop the roof outside.

"Maybe because they're friends, Inoshi-kun." Chousei offered gently, inhaling several chocolates. "Just like the three of us."

"They're troublesome." Shikaro said mysteriously. "Haha-eu* asked me to keep an eye on them."

Her two friends immediately sobered at the mention of Shikae. "Nara-sama told you to keep tabs on them?" Chousei asked, chomping down on a riceball.

"Yeah. She says they'll be up to something soon." Shikaro added ominously.

The three friends exchanged a glance.

"Nara-sama is never wrong," Inoshi said slowly.

"Exactly," Shikaro laid back, staring at the ceiling. "And she's onto something this time. Something big."

* * *

_Yesterday_

* * *

A few seconds after Mito's command, the shadow of a large bookshelf in Uzumaki Miko's living room quivered and the distinctive shape of Nara Shikae bloomed from its darkness. Her shadow then broke free, spawned a copy of itself, and coalesced into flesh and blood.

One of the two remaining T&amp;I members on site gawked at her appearance. "Na-Nara-sama?"

Rolling her head with satisfied cracks, Shikae grinned at the speechless newbie. "Good afternoon, mou."

The other T&amp;I member took pity on their newest addition and whispered something in his ear as Shikae began. Her first destination was the fruit of her squad's labor- a cornucopia of evidence, reports, and objects sealed carefully in preservation scrolls that laid neatly on Miko's shabby coffee table. Shikae paused at the offering before diving in. She worked methodically, analyzing every word, every scratch, every detail. After she was through, she returned everything to its previous state and laid down, closed her eyes, and appeared to doze off.

The newbie turned to his senior, who shrugged. "She's thinking. Wait a little."

Sure enough, after almost exactly 6 minutes, Shikae sat up in a rustle of curls and lightweight fabric, stretching lazily. Then, she stood and strutted over to the duo.

"You!" She pointed to the newbie, who nearly jumped. "How would you feel if your chakra was sealed away by your own sister and all of your colleagues shunned you!"

"Uh, horrible, I suppose," the surprised nin said. "Betrayed. Not just by my sister and the village, but also all of the shinobi."

"Exactly," Shikae nodded in approval. "And if you had a outspoken personality, what would you do?"

"Get revenge." The other ninja spoke up.

"And what's the best way to do that?" Shikae prompted.

"Sabotage?" The newbie offered tentatively.

"No, that's too difficult, especially without chakra. It's also very childish." His senpai added.

"Then...what?"

Silence engulfed the room as Shikae waited.

"I'd join the Resistance," The older of the two said slowly, realization dawning upon him. "The Resistance against the Hokage, against the Shinobi, against the village. I'd team up with a group who already hate the ninjas."

Shikae smiled. "And that is exactly what Uzumaki Miko did."

* * *

After an entire morning of strength and endurance training with a class of whiny eight-year-olds, much to the dismay of my battered body, lunchtime reunited me with a jubilant Kato, who'd been promoted class 103I after beating Inoshi. His victory left him practically _glowing_. We were chatting away happily on the sunny roof when Jiraiya appeared once more.

"Ryūto, I need to talk to you. It's about Sakumo."

At the mention of the Hatake, my mood soured. Nonetheless, I swallowed my grilled tofu and motioned for Jiraiya to sit. "Sure, Jiraiya-san."

"I tried to tell you on your first day, but we got interrupted." Jiraiya plopped down and began, wasting no time. "Remember your argument from three days ago?" I nodded. "There's a reason why Sakumo hates Miko so much."

"Yeah?"

"His mother was on Miko's platoon during the war, the same one that was destroyed by the four jinchuuriki. Miko was the only survivor."

"Oh," I blinked. "_Oh_."

"It's okay, you didn't know." Jiraiya assured me. "But you understand now, don't you?"

"Yeah." My image of Miko was deteriorating further and further by the minute. "He blames Miko for his mother's death, doesn't he?"

"How can he not?" Jiraiya said darkly.

"It's understandable," Kato added sagely. "He's young. It would only make sense for him to shift his blame on the most obvious target."

"You're eight, Inuzuka." Jiraiya quipped drily.

"Age does not correlate with emotional maturity for a child like me," Kato said monotonously. I suppressed a shudder.

"Is Sakumo an orphan, then?" I asked, ignoring the dark turn the conversation had taken.

"No, but he might as well be. His father became a recluse after his mother's death. I heard he became a monk." Jiraiya said.

Kato looked between the two of us. "What about you, Ryū-chan? You're an orphan, right? What happened to your parents?"

"By the sage, Inuzuka! You don't just ask someone _that _in a normal conversation!" Jiraiya hissed. I held up my hand to quell his annoyance, but Kato beat me to it.

"Ryū-chan seems to be mature enough to discuss this, so I took the opportunity to ask him. I'm especially interested because kaa-san mentioned that she knew Ryū-chan's parents."

Jiraiya and Kato glared at each other for one tense moment. Then, they turned to me, waiting for my input.

"It's okay, Jiraiya. I don't mind." Looking between my new friends, I shook away visions of mangled corpses of that fateful day, took a deep breath, and began reluctantly. "My parents were part of the Resistance."

* * *

_5 years ago_

* * *

_The Battle of the Valley of the End lasted for 27 hours, 21 minutes, and 19 seconds, but its devastating legacy will haunt the world for decades. _

_For over a day the terrifying symphony of jutsus, screams, shouts, and chakra rang on and on as Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara fought to justify their village, their shattered dreams, their twisted ideals. Half way through the battle, when Uzumaki Mito finally managed to subdue the unholy beast that was the nine-tailed fox, t__he land had been twisted and deformed beyond recognition. By the time the combatants laid on the scarred earth by death's doorstep, surrounded by a shroud on dust that buzzed with chakra residue, the famous valley was already formed. A deep divide separated two chunks of land, and a choppy, newborn river gushed down the chasm in a deafening roar._

_This was the scene that Nara Shikae saw when she finally snapped out of her awe-induced trance, with one shaking, exhausted, and crying Uzumaki Miko cradled in her arms. Shikae's knees buckled at her sudden shift in perception, and her friend nearly fell into the thundering waters below. _

_"H-hashirama! Hashirama..." The redhead gasped out weakly between her violent, wheezing sobs. Her body hummed with chakra, and her red hair was undone, hanging from her head like a sheet of dirty fire. _

_"Shh, Mito-chan. Shh. Hashi-kun should be fine," Shikae rasped. She felt wet drops roll down her face, falling onto Mito's dirt-streaked skin. "You were incredible. Rest now, Mito-chan."_

_For whatever reason, Shikae's body had naturally gravitated to Mito when her backup team arrived, a day too late. Shikae didn't let herself wonder _why, _so she sat down and held Mito close, stroking her hair as she finally fell into a restless, hiccupy sleep._

_A lengthy drop below the women, veiled by the spray of the waterfall, laid one unconscious Hashirama. His filthy, water-soaked hand kept a tight grip on a half-conscious, but nearly delirious Madara's equally filthy, wet hair. They laid side-by-side after a dramatic finale, a tumble down the very waterfall they'd created._

_The sound of sandals crunching the watery debris was nearly drowned out by the waterfall, but the black armor and the deep yellow eyes made the new arrival unmistakable. She approached the men, a knife in one hand and chakra sheathing the other._

_Later, Uchiha Madara was pronounced dead, and Senju Mamushi was declared missing. __Hashirama cried when he woke up to the sight of the blood-soaked waters around him, calling for Madara, and Shikae swallowed her suspicions as Konohagakure mourned._

* * *

"It's been five years, my love." Mito felt a strange mix of serenity and apprehension as she stood atop of her late husband's stone head, speaking to him over the quiet din of the now peaceful waterfall. "But I'm ready."

It was here, in the battle that defined her husband's life, that Mito could sense traces of her husband. Not the grave in Konoha where his flesh body was laid to rest, but the place where he'd buried his dreams and soul.

"When you died, I vowed to keep the Will of Fire burning. I promised, but I was too weak to face life without you." Mito continued, ignoring the rumble deep in the pit of her stomach. _Go back to sleep, fox._ "But now the past has returned to haunt me, and it's time I confront it once and far all. You were right about Miko- she was hiding something. And Mamushi- she's still out there. Her daughter is here, in Konoha. And of course, your brother." As she finished, she looked towards the statue of the intimidating man facing her husband, where she sensed telltale hints of Uchiha Madara's chakra.

* * *

Hundreds of kilometers north of the lonely valley, a woman with eyes the color of rich amber inhaled and exhaled slowly, deep in meditation. In her state of deep concentration, she managed to pick up the minute shift in chakra, hundreds of kilometers south of the barren land she took refuge in.

"Mito, huh." Her mellifluous voice hummed. "Better be careful, Ryūko-chan."

* * *

_*reverent term for mother_

**Dude. I feel like I'm adding too many OC's- well, I mean Kato isn't really an OC, but Shikae and Mamushi are important to the story. So is Miko. Also, was this too confusing?**


	6. Beginning

。 。 。

* * *

**6, [Beginning]**

* * *

"You two...you've heard of the Resistance, right?" I asked.

Jiraiya shrugged, while Kato gave me a hesitant nod. "Only what my mother has told me, though."

"So not much?"

Kato's nods turned reluctant.

"Same for you, Jiraiya?"

Jiraiya's childish features became uncannily guarded. "It's not something that we're encouraged to talk about, Ryūto."

"He's right," Kato assented, deep green eyes skittering around our surroundings nervously. "We attend a shinobi military school. They don't want us straying too far from patriotic idealism."

"Fair enough," I agreed, and glanced down at my lunch. The juicy pork chops and steaming noodles suddenly seemed extremely unappetizing as the first wave of remembrance hit me with a dizzying punch.

* * *

Two Years Ago

* * *

_Six months after the finale of the First Shinobi World War and the commencement of the Sandaime Hokage's reign, a single blue sheet of paper, barely bigger than a standard explosion seal, was deposited in the Hisoru household's mailbox._

_Hisoru Ryūko, still bleary-eyed in the dew-heavy dawn, sifted through the metal slot on tiptoe. Printmaking had exploded after ninja deployed in Kumo returned with rudimentary machines. The young girl saw a spike in advertisements, catalogues, and letters stuffing the family mailbox. As she dug out the papers, she wiped at the thick makeup covering her face- the foundation was making her skin itch again. But it was important that she covered her unnaturally pale skin with a fleshier hue, and wear thick Sunglasses to hide her intimidating eyes, even for getting the mail._

_The single blue sheet of paper caught her by surprise- a mistake? a harmless prank?- but after turning it over, understanding dawned upon her strangely angular face. With a quick glance around the quiet neighborhood, she dashed inside, clutching the lone sheet of blue to her chest under a mountain of literal junk mail._

_"By the sage, Ryū-chan! I know you love stir-fry, but we have plenty! No need to rush!" Hisoru Daisuke commented cheerily as he slid his large frame into the cozy kitchen table, watching his daughter sprint into their small kitchen._

_Ryūko ignored her whimsical father and went straight to Hisoru Taka, who was chopping vegetables and pork. The Hisoru table was once again populated by fresh foods after the wartime rationing frenzy fizzed out. "Kaa-san?"_

_"Yes, Ryū-chan?" Taka asked, hands a blur as she obliterated the stir-fry ingredients._

_"It's tomorrow," Ryūko replied, setting the azure slip of paper next to Taka's chopping board._

_The knife stopped, barely sinking into a plump green onion. Taka took one glance at the offered paper and called her husband, who came ambling in._

_"What's with all the commotion?" Daisuke's laid-back demeanor all but disappeared the moment he saw the paper. Gently pushing his willowy daughter aside, he flipped it over, revealing the white side with written instructions._

_"Oh," he said softly. "It's time."_

* * *

_After a year of carefully planning, secret rallying, and half a lifetime of oppression, the civilians of Konohagakure were ready to rebel. Daisuke and Taka were among the first to head out the next day, dressed in white and blue. White for purity, representing their hatred of red- the color of bloodshed, the color of ninjas. Blue for independence from the shinobi, whose wars forced the civilians to live as second-class citizens in their own hometown._

_What, you think war only affected those who fought it? I remember nights when we had nothing to eat but a handful of last season's rice. I remember the cramped space of our basement, where we hid for days on the end in fear of an invasion. I remember the medic-nin forcing our neighbor to give up their house when the hospitals became too crowded for the ever growing injured population._

_Safely tucked in my bedroom, I followed the flow of blue and white towards the village center. Watching history unfold felt surreal- I could feel the pulse of time in my veins, the tingle of change in my blood. A real revolution! How exciting! And dangerous. This is civilians against shinobi, after all. As the last of protestors shuffled out of view, I sent a prayer to the spirits and the sage._

_"Oh, the great omnipotent, and those who walk the shadowed worlds beside us- please grant them safety."_

* * *

_"I wish I was never chosen to be the Sandaime."_

_It took every shred of Shimura Danzo's self-control for him to refrain from reaching across the table and throttling the current Hokage. Instead, the dark-haired jounin gave his friend a tired look and politely downed his sake. "Frankly, no one would want to be Hokage with the current state of affairs."_

_"Don't remind me." The young Sarutobi bemoaned, cradling his head in his hands. "Why is it so hard? People should respect me. They're supposed to listen to every word I say! I mean, look at my rec-"_

_"Your kill count and average mission completion time are useless in politics, and even more useless to civilians." Danzo cut him off coldly. "They don't need to be reminded that you're trained to kill. With your current attitude, you'll only worsen the situation at hand. Need I remind you that today is the third day of mass demonstrations against the so-called shinobi elitism?"_

_"No," Hiruzen said glumly, sliding a hand through chestnut hair. For a second Danzo almost pitied him, but his sympathy was swept away by a strong wave of despise, because this was Hiruzen floundering at the job that he knew he will be perfect for, the job that was not his only because he was a second too late in sacrificing himself on the battlefield._

_Danzo watched Hiruzen mope, finishing his sake. He had his own grievances, but tonight Hiruzen was the one who needed distractions- and advice. He wasn't here to comfort an old friend- did you really think Shimura Danzo was the caring type? No. This was a prime opportunity to sway the Sandaime Hokage, to exert some influence over Konoha's fate._

_"So, what are you going to do?" Danzo prompted. "You can't allow the protests to continue. Shinobi and civilian tensions have been at an all time high since the end of the war."_

_"I know." Hiruzen clasped his hands together. "I've been thinking of ways to meet some of their demands. Since they want power and autonomy, I can give them more seats in the council, or let them elect their own representatives- civilians, of course- to rule their own districts-"_

_"No." Danzo interrupted. "The point of a council that summits only in your office is so people will build loyalty to you, and to you only."_

_Hiruzen considered this. "I know, but breaking up the chain of command will pacify them. I can strip away the representatives' powers once everything settles."_

_"And what will they do when they realize what you're doing?" Danzo asked. "The protests will start again. Besides, creating a closed system of power will further divide shinobi and civilians."_

_Hiruzen's body language was angry now, though his tone remained immaculately calm. Juvenile. "Well, I need to do something."_

_"No, you don't." Danzo countered. "Wait for that frustration to build, until they resort to violence. This will give you an excuse to use force- not too much, but enough to warn them off."_

_Hiruzen's expression darkened. "I'd rather not reinforce the idea that shinobi are their enemies."_

_"Do as you please, then." Danzo relented uncharacteristically. If Hiruzen didn't want to use violence, well, there were other ways to clean up this mess._

_"I was going to give them three more seats in the council anyways," Hiruzen continued firmly. "The shinobi population was halved by the War, and it was thanks to the civilian economy that we were able to recover so nicely within a year. They deserve some recognition."_

* * *

_"Three more seats? Only three more seats? Are we a joke?" Haruno Sento's entrance was as dramatic as his personality. The ladder rattled with each angry word. A few heavy footsteps later he hunkered down, the entire room shaking with his wrath and heft. Damn, he's scary._

_"Calm down, Haruno-san! And lower your voice." My mother chided._

_"We spend months prepping for this protest, and this is what we get? Bullshit."_

_"What were you expecting? For the Hokage to coddle us? It's a good start."_

_A good start indeed, I thought to myself, listening the argument bounce between Taka and Haruno Sento in the cramped confines of my parents' basement. Technically, I wasn't allowed in these meetings, but let's just say that the empty cushion crate in the corner was big enough to fit my tiny self._

_"Yeah, Haruno. Keep yer shit together. We lucky the Daimyo didn't kill us." Daimyo was slang for the Hokage around some parts of town. For those people, Sarutobi Hiruzen was no different from a noble landlord who treated his subjects like dogs._

_"Shut the hell up, Hanawa."_

_"Who's going to fill those seats, anyways? Any candidates?" Daisuke prompted as Sento fumed._

_"No one." A distinctive nasally voice said. It was Kouji, the meat bun purveyor, whose notorious dislike for these meetings almost surpassed her dislike for human interaction. If she was here, then things were getting serious. "You'd have to be crazy to take that risk. Everyone will be after them, no matter what the say or do. Think about it- the shinobi clan leaders and those savvy jounin are gonna screw with them. Those Yamanakas are gonna make them spill every secret, and the T&amp;I team members will turn them into Daimyo worshippers faster than a ninja can slit your throat. The civilian representatives already on the board are gonna make them look like idiots. With only a week to prepare for the next meeting, they will look like idiots, even if they were Nara bastards."_

_I blinked after her spiel. She was pretty smart for a meat bun vendor._

_"Sure it'll be difficult, but I'm sure you know some people who'll be interested, Kouji-san. Everyone eats at your place." Daisuke suggested. I could see the small smile on his face._

_"Why not you, Daisuke?" Someone suggested. "Or you, Haruno-san?"_

_"Forget it!" Sento rebutted immediately. "I'm not dealing with that shit."_

_"I don't think that's a good idea," Daisuke added._

_"They're right," Kouji said. "Haruno-san's family runs all of the logistics in this part of town. Daisuke and Taka do all the record keeping. If anything happens to either of them, consider this whole business done."_

_Agreements were made across the room. The Haruno Shipping and Logistics Company oversaw imports, exports, and distribution of everything from soap to mackerel. Sento, despite his foul temperament, was a very generous donor, and my family was knees deep in record keeping for everyone with the slightest involvement. Losing either of them in political turmoil would be a crippling blow to the Resistance's efforts._

_"I do have some people in mind, though." Kouji announced. "Young, smart, and just nameless enough to make the cut."_

_"Who?" This voice was completely new. I'd never heard it before, not even on the streets._

_"I'll make arrangements to speak to them." Kouji continued, completely ignoring the question._

_"Thanks, Kouji-san. We're counting on you." Daisuke said._

_"Don't," Kouji snapped drily. "I'm not guaranteeing anything. And don't be too rowdy at the next protest. The ninjas were humoring us today."_

* * *

_The next punchline of the comedy show hit us in the stomach before we could finish laughing._

_"They're all dead." A pale and haggard Kouji rasped, her mousy hair tousled and greasy from stress. She sat, tense as a taut fishing line, on the edge of a cushion in our living room. Her knuckles were white from their tight grip on a mug of boiling-hot tea. Those were the first words she'd spoken since she'd pounded on our door in the middle of the night and was ushered in by my startled family. "Every single one of them."_

_Daisuke, still disgruntled from being rudely awoken, snapped his head towards her. "Kouji-san, you don't mean..."_

_"I had five people in mind. I didn't tell anyone anything about any of them. But," She took an uneven, shuddering breath. "When I went to see them tonight, every single one of them were dead. Clean cut to the neck. The blood was still wet." She spasmed, clearly recalling the memories a bit too vividly._

_"Fuck!" I flinched, shying away from the tiny crack in the living room door. Tou-san only cursed when he was extremely stressed, and I couldn't help but to shrink a little more as I felt gooseflesh blazing down my arms._

_Even my mother's no nonsense demeanor had been shaken by the news. She was covering her mouth with a trembling hand, barely hiding her horrified expression._

_"Look, Daisuke, Taka. You guys are great people, and this Resistance has potential. But we're up against people who can spit fire, who can wrench every sorry secret from you, and who can fucking find and kill people they haven't even heard of." Kouji took a huge gulp of the burning tea. "I'm here to tell you- be careful. Or better yet, leave this while you can."_

_While you're alive went unsaid. Something wet hit my bare feet, and I reached up to my face- I was crying._

* * *

_"Report, Raven?"_

_"It went well, Taichou. I located and destroyed all the targets."_

_"And did you leave the two families notes?"_

_"Yes, sir. They should find it in the morning."_

* * *

A familiar surge of chakra to my head sent me toppling out of memory land.

"Welcome back, Hisoru-san." Inodan, dressed in casual clothes, looked at me indifferently, her hand slowly reaching away from my forehead. _Wait, what? Isn't it still lunchtime? _I blinked, suddenly seeing a well-lit, well-decorated room.

"How are you faring, Ryū-chan? Is your brain still functioning?" Kato was on me in a flash.

"I'm fine." I said, weakly trying to remove Kato's death grip on my shirt. "Where am I?"

"My house!" Kato announced. "You were acting really strange, and I didn't want you to go home alone and accidentally kill yourself, so I took you home."

"Oh. Thanks." I said, slightly horrified. How did I not realize that an entire afternoon passed by?

"Kato, let Ryūto-kun breathe and go get our dinner from the main kitchen. Ask Inoko-chan for an extra serving."

"Hai!" Kato was gone in a whip of blue-blonde hair, and I was left with a jounin interrogator. I instantly tensed, leaping off the couch and retreating as far away from Inodan as I could, taking out a kunai.

She sighed. "Don't be scared. I only did a cursory scan of your mind last time, to check for signs of recent violence."

I eyed her suspiciously, still holding up my weapon.

"I just _helped _you, in case you haven't noticed. You were experiencing post-traumatic stress. It's not good to lock it all away and leave it there- it'll rot your mind. Also, I found your file. You didn't tell me you're the daughter of _the _Hisoru family, assumed dead."

"I _don't _want to remember! Ever!" I hissed sharply, not even bothering to correct her on the daughter part. "Why did you find my file? And why do I have a _file?"_

"Katomaru-kun trusts you too much, and it's only been days. I have to look out for my son." For a moment her indifference melted into a threat, and I swallowed. "As for the file...well, _everyone _in Konoha has one."

"So what are you gonna do now? Execute mefor treason? Or what, dig around my brain to find out more shit about the Resistance?"

"No, actually. I doubt there's any civilian out there willing to rebel after what'd happened two years ago. What I want to know is...well, why in the name of the Great Sage are _you _training to become a ninja_? _You should either be an extreme pacifist, or plotting to kill all of us. Not that you'd succeed."

"What if I _am?_" I said before I could even _think _who I was talking to, what I was saying. "Where better to learn how to kill ninjas than at a shinobi academy?"

The room was dead silent, and I felt my heart pounding its way out of my throat. Fuck.

"I'm going to write that off as a temporary burst of anger and aggression, _Hisoru_-san." Inodan said very slowly, ice-blue eyes digging into my skull. "And I want you to know that I will be watching you even closer than I was planning to. Anyways, Katomaru-kun should be back...in a few seconds. I'll leave my other questions for next time."

I shoved the kunai away right before Kato reappeared, a tray of steaming food in his hands. "Dinner time!" I put on my sweetest, most gluttonous smile and followed him to the table with my heart at my throat.

* * *

**Sorry for the delay...my summer's been almost as busy as my school year. Hope it made sense...**


	7. Control

。。。

* * *

7, [Control]

**Since it's been awhile, here's a short Synopsis.**

"Ryuto" might inhabit Orochimaru's body, but she is no evil child genius. An orphan of the civilian-led Resistance in a young Konohagakure, Ryuto is a brash, passionate, and resourceful reincarnate. After entering the Ninja Academy, she finds herself caught in the middle of an unresolved situation involving some of the greatest minds of Konohagakure– Nara Shikae, the unsettling, bubbly Nara matriarch— Mito Uzumaki, the broody tactical genius— and Mamushi Senju, the mysterious sage and Ryuto's mother. Meanwhile, she struggles to navigate her newfound relationships with Katomaru (Dan), Jiraiya, and Sakumo.

* * *

_I must learn how to hold my tongue._

After the Yamanaka disaster, I was fueled with so much self-loathing that I dragged myself to the training grounds in the early Saturday hours. Shift, lunge, breathe, strike. The misty clearing was still as I whirled across the packed earth, delivering countless Kata #1s— the basic punch.

My movements were also driven by something deeper than frustration: urgency. Being defeated by Sakumo was disheartening, but getting my face pushed into the dirt by my beginner classmates was outright embarrassing. Shift. _I am a grown!_ Lunge. _Ass!_ Breathe. _Woman!_ Strike. At two hours of training a day, it will still be at least a month until I master the 25 basic katas. Until then, I can't even dream of rising through the ranks.

As the Sun slowly pierced the crisp dawn, I worked up a sheen of sweat. Over the past few days, my outspokenness has gotten me into a lot of trouble. First the Hokage, then the orphans and Miko, and now Inodan—

I gritted my teeth, grunting as I landed a solid punch on the training post. To my satisfaction, the worn wood cracked beneath my fist. Before I could gloat at my accomplishment, however, I noticed the blood trailing down from my reddened knuckles.

Shit.

"Need tape?"

Sakumo! He stood at the edge of the small training ground, offering a roll of bandages and a hint of a smile. I took a deep breath, resisting the urge to hurl a snide retort. "That...would be nice, Hatake-san."

He tossed me the roll. I snatched it out of the air, reflexes enhanced by exercise. As I unrolled the cloth and winded it around my hands, I decided to make conversation. "Here for training?"

"Of course. I see you've finally gotten around to taijutsu." His tone was more observational than mocking.

The bandages fell limp as I struggled to fasten them. "It's not like I have any resources. Everyone's already started, and I've only been here for a week."

"Ah, I suppose that's true. Your last kata was pretty decent for a beginner, though."

"Thanks," I said with slight bewilderment, increasingly aware of my inability to understand the goddamn bandages. Was that a compliment...from the Hatake prodigy? Perhaps he was just being polite, but his comment still sent a rush of power through me.

Sakumo noticed my struggles with bandaging. "Is this your first time wrapping?"

"Uh," I started, slightly self conscious. "Yeah."

"Let me see." With that, he closed the gap between us and held out his hand. I handed him the roll, and waited as he skillfully bound my hands from knuckle to wrist with the medicated cloth.

"The trick is weaving it through the last wrapping," He finished with a flourish, redoing the last step to demonstrate. "After awhile your knuckles will be broken in and your chakra will start protecting the skin, but taijutsu users still rely on these."

I flashed him a small smile. The salve soothed my raw knuckles. "Thanks, Hatake-san."

"Keep up the work. And hold on to the bandages— I have plenty." With that, he left, tanto bouncing on his hip.

As I watched him walk further into the public training grounds, I felt oddly warm. Perhaps I had misjudged him. But no matter— I must train. With that, I returned to the training posts with a renewed sense of purpose. "Kata number two, here I come."

* * *

Flashback

**_Traitors are traitors, no matter the intention._**

_I was the first to notice the message scrawled on our family room ceiling. Kouji's unsettling visit left my entire family nervous, and the red ink dripping into the breakfast rice further distressed my poor parents._

_"Oh, by the Shodai!" My father cried, his sanguine disposition cracking. "They're toying with us!" The red ink kept dripping. It was fresh._

_"Daisuke, there's nothing we can do about it." My mother said sternly, rummaging around under our table for a rag._

_"I know, Taka. They're telling us that they know who we are, where we live, and they can kill us anytime they wish."_

_My mother's face turned pensive as she stood on the table to scrub at the dripping ink. "I don't think this is the work of the Hokage. His stance was never so extreme."_

_"Whoever it is, we're in danger." Father interrupted her thinking. "Let's lay low for awhile, for everyone's sake." He said, dark eyes glinting in the low light._

* * *

"Hokage-sama, you have a visitor."

"It is past visitor hours." Hiruzen grumbled, barely glancing at his secretary as he sped through the last pile of paperwork.

"Yes, but I believe you won't want to miss this one."

"I don't-"

"Stop whining, Hiruzen."

"Uzumaki-sama!" The young Hokage scrambled to his feet as the imposing woman swept into the room. He was so stunned by her presence that he didn't even register the slap until his face began to stung.

"Ow!" Hiruzen was reminded of his chuunin days as he cradled his throbbing cheek. "What was that for?"

"Neglecting your sensor training." Mito accused, grey eyes stern. "Remember? One meditation session a day? Scoping out at least fifty people a week?"

"What? How did you know?" Hiruzen didn't even deny the accusation, staring at the redhead.

"Three days ago, you interviewed Hisoru Ryūto for Shinobi training."

"Yes, and?"

"She was in sage mode the entire time."

"Sage mode? She?"

Mito let out an aggravated sigh. "Again, if you had continued your sensor training regimen, you would've noticed the drop in the chakra pressure around her, and how her chakra center is located too low on her abdomen for her to be male."

"Damn," Hiruzen dragged a hand down his face.

Mito shot him a patronizing look. "How many times have I told you? Just because you can annihilate someone with all five kinds of elemental ninjutsu doesn't mean you're invincible. You still have room to grow."

There was a long pause.

"You're right, Uzumaki-sama." Hiruzen admitted reluctantly. "But, what do you mean, she was in sage mode the entire time? She said during our interview that she'd never had chakra training before."

"She definitely hasn't," Mito confirmed. "But that doesn't mean she can't use sage chakra. Think, Hiruzen."

The young Hokage's brow furrowed in dubiety. "Most people master their natural chakra before even trying to harness sage chakra. If what you're suggesting is true, which it probably is, then that means...I don't know, she was fed sage chakra in the womb or something. Oh."

"Her mother was a sage." Mito confirmed. "And probably meditated during her entire pregnancy. Ryuto has been saturated in sage chakra since the day she was conceived. Her chakra pathways have been adjusted to sage chakra long before she was even born."

Hiruzen leaned back, crossing his arms as his mind raced. A child like this could not be an ordinary orphan— a child of shinobi, then. There weren't any female sages in Konohagakure. Their last, Senju Mamushi, went missing right around the time Mito lost her late husband, eight years ago. Wait. Ryuto is eight years old. Then-

"Are you saying that _Senju Mamushi_ is-"

"Ryuto's mother."

"Didn't she go missing during _that_ battle?"

"Missing to most, yes."

Hiruzen caught the meaning of her words. "You're in contact with Senju Mamushi?"

"In contact? No. We simply keep tabs on each other." Mito met Hiruzen's suspicious gaze evenly. "We're both sensor-nin, after all."

"If she is alive, then she is a high-profile missing-nin, Mito. You should have let us known."

"Then what? She was wandering around in territories hundreds of kilometers away from Konohagakure? She means no business with Konohagakure, save for her child."

"Your range is that wide?"

"Practice, Hiruzen-kun, practice." Mito smirked.

Hiruzen ignored her gloating. "If she wants nothing to do with Konoha, then why send her child here?"

Mito's smirk disappeared, and she was silent for a few moments. "Mamushi has always been rather secretive, especially in the months that led up to her disappearance. Whatever she's doing, it's probably too dangerous for a child to follow. Besides, Konoha is the village she trusts the most."

Hiruzen frowned. "What was she doing before she disappeared?"

"Ancient lore," Mito responded, tipping her chin as her eyes darkened. "She spent a lot of time searching through ancient texts, especially in the Senju and Uchiha archives."

"I need more information than that," Hiruzen announced resolutely. "Secretive, missing nin, and 'too dangerous' do not bode well together." Mito opened her mouth, but Hiruzen forged on. "Uzumaki-san, as Hokage, I command you to generate a full intelligence report on Mamushi Senju. I want her current whereabouts, known locations from the past few years, and your hypothesis as to what had prompted her to leave and her current goals."

Mito raised a crimson eyebrow. "Yes, Hokage-sama."

"Nara-san will contribute, too. I will issue the official order..." Hiruzen glanced briefly down at the papers scattered across his desk. "Tomorrow. Between the two of you, there should be enough information about Senju-san, right?"

Mito said nothing.

"Good. Start working on that as soon as you wrap up with Miko's investigation. Speaking of which, how is that going?"

Mito's expression darkened. "Nothing too surprising. Of course, she was looking for other chakra sources. Her technique has gotten much more eloquent since the last time I've seen it. But worry not— Shikae is personally in charge of this investigation. I have complete faith in her."

* * *

"Good afternoon, mou!"

Maito Dai jolted awake at the cheery voice. Shaking off sleep, he sat up on the rough blankets that had been his home for the past month. A round-faced woman smiled down at him. Her dark curly hair cascading over a green vest and hitae-ite, tied loosely on her left arm. A ninja! Alarm flared up in the young child's chest.

"Hello, shinobi-san." Dai greeted her cautiously.

"You're Maito Dai, right?" She spoke loudly, loud enough for him to hear. His body wasn't the only thing his strange illness had handicapped- his hearing had taken a hit too.

"Yes." He moved aside and stared in budding wonder as she sat down on the grimy blankets.

"My name is Nara Shikae, and I would like your help." The woman said as she pulled out a bento box, opening it to reveal a spread of mouthwatering food.

Dai gawked, partially at her request and partially at her offer. "O-of course, Nara-sama." He said quickly.

"I know you got sick about a month ago." Shikae started gently. "Please tell me about it. You can have all the food, if you like."

Dai looked down at his dirtied hands. Her mention of his disease made him uncomfortable, but he wanted to help the kind lady. "It started out as a fever. I thought I had a cold, so Sensei told me to take a few days off. He said I'll be okay. But," he hiccuped involuntarily, "When I went back to school, I couldn't use chakra. Sensei took me to the hospital, and they told me that I couldn't use chakra anymore. I lost my scholarship to the Academy, and tou-san kicked me out. So I'm just living here now."

Shikae regarded the ugly child with only half-fake sympathy as he finished his tale and began sobbing. "Dai-kun, listen to me. I have another question." Shikae intoned loudly. "Do you know Uzumaki Miko?"

Dai sniffled out his words in between his loud cries. "Yeah. She lives near me, and she was very nice to me while she was alive. Now she's dead though."

She patted his greasy bowl cut reassuringly. Her hypothesis had been confirmed.

She'd spent the morning compiling a list of people Uzumaki Miko had contacted during two months before her death. After studying the list, she'd suspected that Maito Dai, an academy student that had suddenly withdrawn from his 4th year in the Shinobi Academy after meeting Miko, was an unfortunate victim of her experiments in chakra siphoning.

But why siphon chakra now, two years after the last of the civilian uprisings have been stamped out? Perhaps Miko was not linked to the Resistance after all.

"There, there, Dai-kun." Shikae sighed, gently rubbing the sobbing child's back. "Let's go back to my home. You can eat there."

Two minutes after Shikae loped away with a hopeful Dai in tow, an old monk passed by Dai's abandoned sack. In another life, another time, this old monk would become Asura-sensei to the crippled Maito Dai, teaching the child how to use his broken body. But in this one, he simply swept by in a swish of russet robes and wooden rosary.

* * *

AN: Long story short, I started attending a boarding school that kicked my ass. However, I am now approaching the end of my senior year, leaving plenty of time to goof around and write fanfiction.


End file.
